#At the mere thought of having their - moral convictions- being in line with HOW A FICTIONAL CHARACTER LOOKS LMAO

[molinaesque]

You know that popular text post that talked about how annoying it is when people reblog posts that's obviously in celebration for those particular things, just to shit all over it because it's already got a ton of notes so they're using it to piggy back off of it instead of just creating their own damn posts where they can dump all their negativity and bullshit on it? Yeah, I FEEL that post right now.

[anghraine]

It's interesting that Tumblr is so fixated on the critical importance of people being soft and nice, often arguing that this is more significant morally than any other quality. I think part of this is a reaction to preoccupation with looks or a vaguely cringe prioritization of intelligence, but it's still pretty strange to me.

I say "interesting" and not just "annoying" because ... a certain baseline of niceness is morally obligatory or you're being an asshole, sure. But that bar is not super high, IMO. And what I really find intriguing is the relative lack of conversation around the limits of niceness.

There's the calculated "niceness" of the Nice Guy(TM) whining about being friendzoned, but I'm only talking about the real deal—people who are nice either out of good nature or conscious effort. It's not that this is secretly bad or something. It is good! But I do think the extreme emphasis on it is pretty misguided.

The thing is, it is 100% possible to believe vile things and still be personally pleasant. Some people are just naturally personable or prize niceness as a cultural or individual value, and will be thoughtful and courteous to strangers while also convinced of the evils of [insert any number of minorities here]. I grew up in conservative rural communities in the United States and was brought up Mormon, so I am extremely familiar with the "nice if you can ignore the bigotry" phenomenon.

Being nice in a day-to-day way does not preclude being a pretty awful person in other ways, actively promoting systematic oppression, or just being inoffensive but fairly vacuous. People's intellectual thought processes and convictions do matter more than ~softness, IMO. And I have fairly severe anxiety and get privately very upset when people seem at all hostile IRL, which it's easy for me to read them as being (social anxiety+autism, yay!). Nevertheless, while I appreciate it when people are nice, I ultimately respect intellectual convictions far more.

Many of the people I love most have iffy manners or are charismatic in a ... very forceful way, but part of why we get on so well and I care about them so much has to do with their convictions, the thought processes that lead to those convictions, and how they apply thought, reasoning, and belief in general. It's not that I interrogate people about their convictions on meeting them, but ... if you're at all committed, they become apparent. And I've found that I'm very drawn to intense people who share my basic ideological beliefs and principles and are intellectually engaged with them, even if their manners are not particularly inviting.

In that sense, yeah, I do think intelligence matters more than niceness. Someone being nice tells me that the person is nice in at least this particular context, but very little about them as people. Many people are nice but bigots, or nice but privately abusive, or nice but vacuous, or nice but undependable, or whatever. It is more important to respect a friend, family member, or partner's fundamental character and lines of thought than to find people who are merely nice.

[raxistaicho]

Take a look at this

I saw an excellent write-up on Frederica’s ending in Triangle Strategy on tv tropes today, just thought I’d share it :)

Similarly, and from another perspective, while the game tries to treat Frederica's Chapter XVII conviction as being utterly ridiculous and even selfish and delusional, it's very easy to sympathize — even empathize — with Frederica wholeheartedly. As early as the persuasion phase, the game makes swaying to Frederica's cause the hardest, what with no one by default being on her side. (Hughette, conflicted as she is about Roland's desires, will capitulate if swaying her fails or she's left to her own devices. And Geela, Anna, and Erador all default to Benedict likewise.) The process itself will see all four allegedly undecided voters scoff to varying degrees of intensity and contempt (Erador being the absolute worst of the lot) at Seranoa trying to persuade them her way. If choices aren't picked carefully, Seranoa will get the typical clapback of most Morality choices with decries of being naive and immaturely fanciful, failing to persuade regardless of how high the player's Morality Conviction level is. The game tries very hard to make the player feel Frederica's desire to be naught but a childish fool's errand. And then should persuasion succeed in Frederica's favor, the game uses Benedict to try and call Seranoa (and the player by extension) out for not putting Wolffort above all else. Except that this does little to nothing to veil the urgency and righteousness of Frederica's justified desire to free the generationally enslaved and wronged Roselle, a cruelty we learn goes even deeper before too much longer. Benedict's plan, for all its touted reasonability, is ultimately and foremost about propping up Serenoa as the greatest ruler of Norzelia above anything else, with any seeming boons merely accents to that end and with all the pitfalls and downfalls that all too closely resemble reality outside the game for much the world over. So despite the game trying to call the player out for seemingly abandoning everything and everyone else, the burning need for a focused, undistracted justice for the Roselle combined with Norzelia having proven itself to be a mostly unrepentant cesspool makes the decision to liberate the Roselle and flee the continent altogether not only feel like the unambiguous correct one, especially in light of the other two standard choices, but the cathartic one as well. It's telling that unlike the other two standard routes that see Frederica or Roland part bitter and tragic ways with Seranoa, Benedict's parting doesn't carry the same sense as the other two does, which is why this is the only one of the 4 routes were Seranoa doesn't make it to the end; Frederica's loss of Seranoa right at the finish line needed to happen, narratively-speaking, to be the real bittersweet loss for that route's victory.

[isolatedbubble]

Romance in MXTX, Priest, and SHL

MXTX: Flower, Wine and Dreamworld

The romance in MXTX's works is like flower that grows in ice and snow; colorful, bright and hopelessly romantic, blossoms in misery and hardships.

It features a distinct "us against the world" mindset, depicting love as the only constant in the world. It's an eternal "dreamworld" detached from worldly matters, the perfect escapism as well as a source of strengths in the face of cruel reality.

Both MDZS and TGCF are a critique of mob mentality.

The contrast between CQL and MDZS is very interesting. While the former ends with LWJ taking charge, and therefore changing the world for the better, the novel ends with wangxian isolating themselves from grand politics and focusing more on helping individuals as recluse. It has an essentially pessimistic attitude towards the morality & intelligence of the collective. 

TGCF takes a slightly more optimistic approach, featuring the crowd being courageous under the right circumstances. However, both works share a similar undertone: putting one’s absolute faith in the collective is dangerous, whereas unconditional trust and devotion can be only found in one-to-one connection

MXTX herself compares MDZS and TGCF to 花间一壶酒 (A cup of wine among flowers), MDZS being the wine and TGCF being flower. She also compares MDZS to 风雪夜归人, the person returning home from snow and wind, and TGCF to 红泥小火炉, a small red furnace.

Priest: Breezing Wind and Burning Iron

The romance in priest's works is more complicated. It's the most gentle in its normal state, when it is rational and collected, in which case it's like the breezing wind, soothing, sweet and light-hearted. It gives the individuals more incentive to achieve their individual and/or societal vision, as well as more reason to value their own lives & well-being.

In Faraway Wanderers, the most distinct feature of WenZhou relationship is how in naturally sync they are, and how comfortable & smooth their dynamic is. They both have past burden, but it doesn’t matter, because they bring simple joy, understanding and happiness in each other’s lives.

In Sha Po Lang and The Guardian, the ML’s lingering love for the MC motivates them to become better version of themselves, to care about others, and to form a holistic vision about bettering society. 

In The Defective, Lin Jingheng(MC) explicitly said that Lu Bixing(ML) is the only meaning in his life. He had little incentive to care about his own life after his revenge plan fell apart. LBX helped him reconnect with his inner idealism, and gave him a reason value his life.

When the passion and fiery energy manifests itself, however, the romance is like burning iron, blood and fire. It isn’t actually toxic or unhealthy, but it's not pure and innocent either; in this case, it strives for something deeper and more intense, never content with the past or the present. The sheer intensity of relationship is like a double-edged sword, walking the fine line between unconditional devotion and dangerous obsession. 

SHL: Spring Water and Healing Open Wounds

The romance in SHL is like "spring water"; it's warm, gentle, nurturing. It breaks through the boundary between individuals to bring the couple closer to each other, taking them back to a utopia of their childhood dream, away from social pressure and responsibility. The theme central to their relationship is “salvation”: how love is able to bring people back to integrity.

Both drama wkx and drama zzs have lots of regret about their past sins and wrongdoings. Four Seasons Manor is essentially a metaphor for purity, acceptance and the safety of childhood home. How to make drama wkx open up and accept this safe harbor as his home is one of the most significant plot-lines of the show.

SHL couple is way more emotionally vulnerable and expressive. A significant part of SHL arc is healing the wounds in an open and honest way. They cuddle and confide in each other way more often, talk about their shameful past and even cry about their regrets in front of one another, which is very rare among MXTX/Priest works.

The heat of the relationship sometimes gets too hot and even burns; in other words, there are constant miscommunications, conflicts and misunderstandings in the relationship. However, they can never let each other go, because it's the only source of warmth left for them in their hopeless lives filled with regrets and guilt.

Similarities and Differences

*Note that this is not a SHL/TYK comparison. TYK is kind of an “unorthodox” priest novel; you will know what I mean if you have read 3+ of her works. 

Relationship Dynamic & Narrative:  

In MXTX’s works, the concept of “romance” itself is divined; and the characters are illustration of the ideal of “undying love”. People are made for one another, to complete one another. Her works use colorful symbolism (silver butterflies, the emperor’s smile, the 3 thousand lanterns, etc.) to depict this romanticized ideal of love. 

For MXTX, the romanticization of “destined love” is one of the most recurring themes of her novels. Therefore, the readers look at their relationship through rose-color glasses. Obsession is usually framed in a jolly & romantic light, and doesn’t feature much tension or stress, and has less negative or unhealthy undertone. 

In most of priest’s works and SHL, soulmates are not born but made, so they have to figure out how their relationship works step by step. Therefore the narrative is less of a “rosy picture”. 

Priest has a habit of using derogatory terms to describe relationships that are mostly healthy, but somewhat “bloody” and edgy, full of excessive passion and obsession. The most common phrase is “爱生忧怖”, a Buddhist term meaning “love results in worry and fear”. 

SHL obviously has to be more subtle in expressing love. That said, drama WenZhou are way more emotionally vulnerable and expressive than their novel counterparts, as well as most Priest & MXTX characters. They have a dramatic falling out once in a while, even towards the end. They barely fit the Chinese definition of Zhiji (to know me/to understand one another), but are “lovers” who are buried deep in their passion instead. 

Past, Future and Evolvement: 

In SHL, characters are encouraged to treasure past impressions that are thrown in figurative “wrappings”, whose luster is derived from age-old experiences (Psychological Types, Carl Jung). In other words, they are encouraged to root their love in a shared past, a Utopia of innocence. 

The contrast between The Defective and Word of Honor is very interesting to observe. Both involve long separation, and the suffering and personality changes hat comes from it.   SHL narrative frames their innocent childhood as something to cling to and return to. Drama WKX is encouraged to accept his identity as Four Seasons Manor disciple because it was part of his childhood past. This is a significant part of drama WenZhou relationship.

In The Defective, the narrative doesn't encourage the couple to dwell on the past that much. On the contrary, the all-knowing AI explicitly discouraged the MC from “comparing past to present”. They are advised to accept changes, however painful it might be, and build a better, more equal dynamic out of it, evolving from one-sided pandering to fighting side-by-side.  

In Priest’s novels, the characters rarely return to something in the past, but look into the future. Change is usually framed as inherently beneficial, albeit usually painful and rocky, the implication being that you need to constantly strive for something better.  

Sha Po Lang is a good example of this, with Gu Yun’s changing attitude towards Chang Geng after he as he matures, gradually showing his intelligence in politics. CG starts referring to GY as Zixi instead of YiFu is also a sign of this change---to see him as equal rather than a parental figure & protector.

The Defective is even more obvious in this regard, with both parties uncomfortable with the change initially, but gradually adjusting to the changes during their 16-year separation. The ML also stops calling MC by his surname “Lin”, as a sign of viewing him as equal. 

In MXTX’s works, change in personality or relationship dynamic is neither framed as painful or good. It just happens. It’s a natural flow that take place when it does. Their relationships are rarely challenged by change. They are objectively at a better place compared to their past, but it’s merely the result of a series of events rather than a deliberate choice or struggle.  

WangXian’s relationship naturally changes over time after WWX’s rebirth, but neither of them really struggles with the change. 

Xie Lian doesn’t even recognize Hua Cheng as the someone from his past, so they start out as friends getting to know each other. 

Salvation and Changing one another: 

Priest herself stated in an interview that she doesn’t believe in the concept of salvation, since people have the inner capacity to be their own savior. Therefore, priest characters usually don’t actively try to change their partner’s morals or personality. Some might be willingly influenced by their partner, but there’s rarely an element of moral condemnation. Even when there is a conflict between different values, the options are 1) to reconcile them by choosing the middle ground 2) to maintain their independence and tackle it with nuance 3) to break up.

On surface level, Mo Du/Silent Reading is about Luo Wenzhou being Fei Du’s salvation. However, as LWZ pointed out himself, Fei Du would’ve been a good person at heart with or without his influence. 

In The Defective, when Lu Bixing mistakenly thought Lin Jingheng stayed in the Eighth Galaxy against his own wishes because of their relationship, and that their priorities are irreconcilable, he even thought about breaking up. Of course he was not serious about it, but this showcased that he would never try to change LJH’s convictions. 

In SHL, however, the concept of salvation is central to the theme. Some find it strange that SHL make drama zzs the more “moral” one of the two, despite his action being more objectively questionable. In fact, the only reason he get framed as more “moral” is that he admitted his fault sooner, and therefore could guide drama wkx’s path back to salvation: to recognize the goodness in people, make peace with external world, to clear his name in Jianghu, and to follow due process with his revenge plan to avoid collateral damages. 

“I tried to change you, but you end up changing me”, said drama ZZS. This relationship dynamic is never present in any of priest’s works I’ve read. Priest characters don’t *try* to change one another. 

Does MXTX believe in salvation? Hard to tell. One could argue that Hua Cheng would have be way more amoral and even immoral if it hadn’t been for XL. This is complicated and is a topic for another time.

However, it is certain that MXTX MCs don’t condemn each other morally. “The orthodox one defending their unorthodox partner in front of the world” is a common wuxia trope, but the way MXTX novels approach it is very different from SHL. 

HuaLian never had a serious falling out about being on different sides. Even when they disagree, they respect each other and love each other exactly the way they are. Hua Cheng didn’t approve of Xie Lian saving Mu Qing, but he didn’t interfere with Xie Lian’s decision. Xie Lian feels responsible for helping Shi Qingxuan in Blackwater arc, but he is perfectly fine with HC helping He Xuan keep secrets. In several cases where they have different values, they are able to make it work with ease.

LWJ never *morally* condemned WWX for his action, and never once objected to WWX practicing demonic cultivation after his rebirth. In fact, LWJ never objected to WWX’s morals; in their previous life he was worried about his safety, and struggled with what to do about certain situations due to his family background, but difference in morality is not an issue for them. 

The “righteous” one does not feel the need to guide their unorthodox partner or to be their salvation with regards to integrity. 

*The similarity & differences part is a bit messy and some points are not fleshed-out. Sorry about that. 

**I don’t claim to have the right interpretation. The lens by which we see different styles of romance is ultimately subjective. 

[ianthe-is-a-bitch-and-i-love-her]

Aminata may be in love with Baru, Exhibit C. We're focusing on just one passage now, which come right after they've been properly reunited. Aminata has just observed Baru make a great effort to be honest with her, embraced her, and then felt a sad sort of longing when Baru let go. Baru then reunited with her lover Ulyu Xe, and this was Aminata's reaction:

It felt weird to watch her friend kiss a woman. Not good weird. But weird like eating cantaloupe, which Aminata hated. You could see, theoretically, why someone else liked it.

The construction of this passage is excellently ambiguous, suggesting two contradictory interpretations, depending on what specifically is making Aminata feel "weird". The most straightforward interpretation is that Aminata is straight, and having grown up in a society that condemns queerness, is uncomfortable seeing her friend openly express her queerness. The other interpretation is that Aminata is uncomfortable watching Baru kiss a woman because it makes Aminata think about the possibility of Baru kissing her. I normally go for the answer that requires the fewest assumptions, but in this case I have a few things that make me find the first explanation insufficient.

Firstly, Aminata is aware of Baru's lesbianism and has contemplated it bluntly before without any hint of discomfort or revulsion. You could argue that this is an example of someone's private morality not quite lining up with their instantaneous reactions on the real world, but I think if the author wanted us to draw the conclusion that Aminata was viscerally repulsed, in spite of being ethically/intellectually unbothered, he would have seeded that discomfort somewhere else to make this feel like a natural outgrowth of Aminata's internal monologue. He didn't. What he seeded instead, mere sentences before this, was that Aminata was upset because Baru had stopped touching her.

Secondly, that last sentence contains an unusual amount of hedging and depersonalization for Aminata's inner monologue. Aminata's thoughts are usually very blunt, shaped by her conviction in duty, her self-consciousness about how she is perceived, and the justifiable rage that accompanies that self-consciousness. She rarely attaches so many qualifiers to her thoughts. The "theoretically" especially stands out to me as a shield against her own desires. It reminds me strongly of the "theoretical" scenarios I would construct in the early days of approaching the idea that I might not be straight. It reads to me like Aminata projecting to protect her own image of herself as a straight woman definitely not in love with her best and oldest friend that she can't quite be sure is trustworthy.

None of this is conclusive, but I'm having a great time with this reading of Aminata as a woman who is very insistently not in romantic bisexual love with her best friend haha what are you talking about haha two girls? ew!!!

I can't wait to see what else jumps out at me through this lens

[bestworstcase]

I find your thoughts on how the Captain raised Cassandra interesting. I don’t think he’s a bad parent, but he did pass on some traits to Cassandra that are unhealthy. One particular trait being her low opinion on criminals “It’s hard to make decisions when your only friends are convicts and losers.” This black and white mindset is definitely from Cap. Yet Rapunzel isn’t guiltless. She lacks the mindset to truly understand criminals. As shown by her failures to empathize with Varian and Eugene.

oh tbh i don't agree that cass has any particular aversion to crime or people who commit crimes, as a matter of principle, like, the only instances we get of her being disparaging about crime are:

1) dunking on eugene at the beginning of fitzherbert pi, wherein she does call him a "two-bit hood" but taken in context what she's implying is—well the whole exchange goes like this:

CASS: Listen, Raps, if you're trying to find your defining activity, don't listen to this dud, whose whole work history is being a two-bit hood— EUGENE: Oho! 'Two-bit hood?!' Hold the pastry—I'll have you know, Cassandra, Flynn Rider was a legend. CASS: Heh. Key word being 'was.' And... what is it you do now?

the actual sting here is "and what is it you do now?"—i.e. this is cassandra mocking eugene for being lazy, and in constructing THAT insult she actually compares eugene unfavorably to his flynn rider persona. cass obv isn't impressed by the flynn rider legacy, but she's even less impressed by eugene's current laziness and lack of direction. that's what really makes him a "dud" in her eyes.

[see also: cassandra vs eugene, wherein even when cass is fuming at him she rants about his present behavior—his selfishness, arrogance, inconsiderate nature, and laziness—and doesn't so much as mention his criminal past.]

2) suspecting that lance has ulterior motives in return of strongbow, but... lance is:

a) an unrepentant, boastful thief, who b) just got out of prison and c) blatantly tries to pocket valuables right in front of cass, after d) showing up out of the blue to "reconnect" with his old partner-in-crime.

so yeah, cass doesn't trust lance as far as she can throw him, under those circumstances. neither does eugene. &—similar to how cass focuses on eugene's present attitude rather than his past reputation—her suspicion of lance is grounded in her observations of how lance is acting right now.

but once lance decides to turn over a new leaf and stick around? there's zero tension between him and cass. she doesn't continue holding onto these suspicions after lance changes how he acts.

and

3) the "It's hard making decisions when the only friends and advisors you have left are ex-convicts and losers" line which... i think does need to be taken into context as something cass says in the same episode where she kidnaps varian and calls him a loser because he failed to murder her two years prior? cassandra in CR is deeply entrenched in a mindset that rapunzel and corona both suck and varian is a pathetic coward for reconciling with her and anyone willing to align themselves with coronan law is her enemy—so her sneering about ex-convicts mere hours before she starts attacking and kidnapping and drugging and attempting to murder people really seems like it's the EX part that she's disgusted by, in her current frame of mind.

& on the flip side, well, consider the following:

1. cassandra herself is a criminal. like, she commits treason. in before ever after. sneaking rapunzel outside the city in the middle of the night and almost getting the princess killed, when the king gave specific orders that rapunzel was to stay within the walls? treason. that's why cass is so terrified of the secret getting out!!

2. cass never once expresses reservations about the pub thugs, who according to the film are specifically violent criminals. nor does she have any issue consorting with the, at the very least morally somewhat grimy types the challenge of the brave attracts.

3. speaking of the pub thugs, cass takes it for granted that attila is guilty of the crimes he's been accused of but readily supports rapunzel's quest to clear his name regardless. also just... look at how gleeful she is about the damage done to monty's shop:

"yeah! our friend sure did wreck this place! :D" jkghsdkf

3. the one time we see her do investigative work on her own, she does head for the snuggly duckling to ask questions—which is logical, bc the pub thugs are literal bandits with whom she has some personal rapport, and in a weird missing people situation with zero real leads, talking to friendly acquaintances who are basically decent but have spotty legal histories and bad reputations is a good first step; criminals gossip too, and one of them might well have heard rumors about kidnappings—but the instant she hears that one of their own is also missing she immediately includes the missing bandit as one of the victims she's trying to find.

what she doesn't do is shrug of ulf's disappearance as unimportant (bc he's just some criminal who cares) or probably irrelevant (bc banditry gets people killed all the time) or anything similarly dismissive the way someone who had a genuine bias in this regard might. like, just compare the way cass interacts with the pub thugs in PB to the way cap interacts with them in ruthless ruth, how at ease she is around them vs how uncomfortable and disparaging he is.

4. she's horrified when she learns that her dad has been acting as frederic's secret police, demands that he answer rapunzel's questions, and later tells him that he disappointed her—which is absolutely not indicative of the kind of law-above-all mindset you need to believe that criminals are intrinsically bad people or worth less than law-abiding folk.

5. in goodbye and goodwill, cass incites a street brawl for fun and then boasts to the sheriff that she injured twenty-three people. her idea of a good time includes things like a piranha dunk tank and a human piñata!

gkjhsl all of which is to say that—despite cassandra's aspirations of joining the guard—she's not particularly lawful, nor does she seem to harbor any serious prejudices against people who break the law; she herself enjoys violence, revels in destruction, and glibly flouts direct orders from the king when she thinks she can get away with it; and that's all BEFORE her villain arc. and, sure, she nominally cares about upholding the law—while people are watching, when her dad in particular is watching, or when she's actively performing duties for the royal guard—but... that's not the same as being prejudiced against people with criminal pasts or even just people she perceives as criminals. and like it bears repeating that cassandra's establishing character moment involves her committing treason, lmao.

[rapunzel is interesting in this regard bc she is far more trusting than cassandra—in that she uncritically trusts anyone who seems vaguely nice—but i think she also has a far more black and white perspective on morality than cassandra does. she's invested in Redeeming Criminals because they're Doing Wrong and Helping Them Is The Right Thing To Do but then we also see with like, lady caine and the separatists and even the baron that she isn't particularly interested in really engaging with the factors that cause people to break the law and her approach to redemption amounts mostly to 'offer second chance, then lock them up if they seem unrepentant or unwilling to immediately and completely reform'; even with her much more determined effort to get through to cass the most rapunzel ever did was say 'stop doing these bad things' until it finally worked.]

[stuckonstarker]

only a kiss

Months of brewing feelings bubble up to the surface as Peter and Tony share a kiss on movie night.

Tony didn’t think much of it when he invited Peter over for a movie night. It was a simple break from their respective responsibilities as Spider-Man and Iron Man. He figured they both deserved it; an hour or so of mindless entertainment with each other’s company.

Maybe he should’ve been more privy to it, though. The way the air shifts when they’re together. He might’ve been able to avoid the inevitable for a little longer, then.

Peter has grown into Tony’s equal. No longer is he the nerve-wracked kid being mentored by Tony. No, now he’s an adult with a certain ease to him that wasn’t there merely a year prior. 

They both acknowledge this development in a silent agreement.

Tony notices that Peter’s once soft features have sharpened. His jawline is much more defined, his eyes less reserved and more emboldened, and his lips often upturned in a subtle smile that brims with confident mischief.

He has an elegant way about him now as he walks with his head held high and he says things with steadfast conviction.

As Peter changed with the seasons so too did Tony’s opinion of him. From a young boy, shy and anxious, to a man, self-assured and sensible.

The shift in Tony’s opinions was inconsequential at first. Nothing more than a mere whisper, the tiniest spark of something wholly imperceivable at the time.

But, as the whisper got louder and the flame grew, Tony came to realize the pleasant warmth in his chest was something else entirely. Something much darker, much more depraved, than the mentorly affection he had previously mistaken it for.

It seemed harmless enough, though, to briefly indulge in the sensual pleasure Peter provides. Only a quick kiss to the forehead or a hug that goes on a second too long.

Tony continued to fan the flames, unaware of how truly bad his passionate need for Peter was getting. But there was something in Tony, almost primal, that demanded he get closer with Peter. To carve an irreplaceable slot for himself in Peter’s life. 

Peter seemed to have no objections to that; for no matter how much Tony wanted to take, Peter was willing to give.

Tony seemed to have found a balance. As he restricted himself just enough to avoid hurting his protege while also having enough connection to satisfy that cruel whisper within him. 

It was working quite well for a while.

And then Peter began reciprocating Tony’s subtle affections.

Thus began months of them sharing lingering stares full of longing; quiet giggles and inside jokes they never bothered to include others in; compliments that edge just on the border of inappropriate. Nothing ever explicit, but the implications clear enough.

It was always a fine line, Tony realizes, they were always a step away from disaster. So, he should’ve expected this - he really should’ve - but denial is such an intoxicating drug.

The mood around them both is often infected with their want for one another; poorly concealed and hard to resist. Even with something as simple as a movie night, there’s an unmistakable longing in the air.

So, it truly didn’t take much.

They laughed together. Tony held Peter close; so close you’d think they were trying to merge into one. Peter shifted so he was in Tony’s lap - to which Tony had no complaints - and the laughter continued. 

The air of ease allowed them to forget the act. As they laid in one another’s arms the rest of the world began to melt away, allowing for their inhibitions to leave them.

So now, after months of impatient buildup, Peter’s straddling Tony and their faces are mere inches apart. Tony’s hands rest on Peter’s hips as he relishes in the sweetness of their bond. He doesn’t allow his hands to drift, however - a futile, last ditch attempt to convince himself that their relationship is just platonic.

The darkness of the room makes it easy for Tony’s resolve to crack, though, as he feels himself being drawn to Peter. A magnetic force that overtakes both of them. There’s a sensual warmth that floods their minds, washing out any rational thought.

Peter’s nose touches Tony’s.

A brief panicked thought of ‘This isn’t right!’ flashes through Tony’s mind before it’s aborted just as suddenly.

Any logical thought Tony might have is dashed by the alluring nature of Peter’s plush, pink lips that whisper his name so delicately:

“Tony.”

He finds himself swallowing around his nervousness. He quite honestly can’t remember the last time someone made him feel such a way, he must’ve been a teenager; much like Peter is currently, his brain supplies quite unhelpfully.

He asks, “Yes?”

“Will you do me a favor?” Peter asks.

Tony nods.

Peter whispers, “Kiss me. Just once.”

Tony feels his grip on Peter tighten ever so slightly. This desperate yearning inside him screaming to do as Peter says, but still, he has a smidge of morality left. While Peter is technically legal, Tony can’t imagine a world where this relationship would ever be right.

Peter notices this hesitation with a small smile, “It’s only a kiss, Tony, just one. That’s all I ask from you right now.”

They’re so close, Tony realizes suddenly, but he doesn’t make a move to change it. He doesn’t want to. And he’s still a selfish, selfish man, so he allows himself this contact.

His heart lurches, stutters to what feels like a stop, before picking up pace and battering against his ribcage.

All at once, Tony is forced to admit that he wants and he wants badly. And that Peter wants just as badly as well. That there is not a feeling on Earth that could ever compare to being within Peter’s comforting embrace.

“I can’t kiss you,” Tony says, “I… don’t deserve it.”

Peter says, “Oh, but you do.”

The room is dark, illuminated only by the TV playing a long-forgotten movie. It’s silent, save for their breathing. They’re shrouded in an aura of years of pining and want and need. And, maybe at this moment, Peter can convince Tony to take what he wants so desperately.

Tony moves a hand cautiously to Peter’s beautiful curls and it feels like silk to the touch. Peter smiles at the contact, making a noise of contentment.

And then, in a move that’s just as slow as it is swift, Tony guides Peter’s lips toward his and, before those pesky thoughts of right and wrong can object, they are locked in a kiss.

It’s soft and sweet, much like Peter himself. It feels like they’re lips are dancing, they move together in perfect sync and harmony. It’s bliss, Tony must admit, to finally claim the reward he’s been refusing himself for so long. To finally indulge in Peter’s sinfully sweet taste.

The pace is slow as they both take their time basking in the electrifying pleasure that comes with such love. Everything about their movements is gentle, testing the waters and pushing their preconceived boundaries.

Tony’s hands move to Peter’s thighs and Peter holds the sides of Tony’s face as their lips glide together. And, much braver now, Tony tenderly nips Peter’s bottom lip as if asking permission for more. Permission which Peter grants as his lips part like a delicate flower blooming.

Tony’s light-headed from want as his tongue swipes along Peter’s; the action so overwhelmingly intimate that it sends shockwaves through him. Peter moans desperately into the kiss and Tony hums back, acknowledging his sweetheart's want. 

They’re clinging to each other, becoming one and whole together. It’s perfect, it’s everything they’ve ever wanted and more. But, like all good things, it must come to an end.

They pull from each other slowly. It’s like time itself has come to a stop as they look into each other's eyes, foreheads touching.

They, shrouded in darkness and overflowing with warmth and want, stare longingly into one another’s eyes for what seems like an eternity. Everything melts away and the only thing that matters now is them and only them.

They’re both panting and overheating. 

Peter, out of breath, scoffs a laugh and - before he can stop himself - whispers: “I love you.”

The words are raw with real want and emotion. His body so filled to the brim with joy it needed to be expressed somehow. And what way better than such a pure confession?

The silence that fills the room is deafening, as if even the universe itself is watching with bated breath waiting to see what will happen next. 

Everything moves in slow motion as they both come to their separate realizations.

Peter; who’s just realized how much those words weigh, how much he truly means them as well, how his heart - for so long - has ached to be close to Tony, and how he would do anything if it meant he got to spend the rest of his life held in Tony's tight embrace.

He feels like he could fly.

Tony; who realizes how far gone he truly is, how selfish he is, how even when he tries he can’t help but mess everything up, how this was all a mistake from the very start, and how he should’ve never recruited Peter - should’ve never taken such a bright flame in just to snuff it out.

He feels like he could die.

“I think you should go,” his voice strangled as the words are ripped from his throat by force.

In an instant, Peter pulls back -  his eyes wide in disbelief.

He hesitates for a moment before asking, “what?” because he surely must’ve heard wrong, because surely Tony didn’t say what Peter fears he said.

Tony sighs, the words even harder to say the second time, but he resolves himself, “You should go, Pete.”

Peter scoffs, for real this time, and says, “You’re kidding me, right?”

He’s straddling Tony’s legs, still dizzy from the kiss and, yet, Tony has the gall to say:

“I’m not, Peter, you need to leave.”

“Why?” Peter asks, keeping his voice steady and hardening his stare. He refuses to be sent away so simply without even an explanation.

Tony huffs in frustration; telling Peter to leave was already so difficult enough and now, like usual, he has to deal with the boy’s stubborn attitude.

Tony's not quite sure what to say to express his dilemma. There are millions of thoughts racing through his head - millions of things he wants to say. 

Instead, he settles on, “Because I said so.”

He then goes to remove Peter from his lap; a rapid series of bad decisions he will soon realize as Peter - who’s finally reached his breaking point - uses the tiniest fraction of his super strength to keep Tony’s legs and arms pinned.

“No,” Peter says, jaw clenched, “I’m not leaving until you tell me why.”

A tiny flame of lust flickers within Tony at this predicament, but he stomps it out with his indignation.

Tony says, “Because this isn’t what we are.”

Peter laughs humorlessly, “Well, then, what are we?”

“Coworkers,” Tony says plainly.

Peter says, “Oh, yeah, I forgot coworkers have makeout sessions all the time.”

“It was just a kiss,” Tony says, “it didn’t mean anything.”

He didn’t mean it; regrets it the second the words leave his lips. But he’s said it, released those words into the air and they hang there for a moment. And a much thicker, tenser silence fills the room. They stare at each other as time seems to stretch out endlessly. And, then, something in the air snaps.

Peter releases his hold Tony and he breathes deeply.

“...Is that really how you feel?” He asks quietly.

Tony can feel every ounce of his body screaming ‘No!’ but he can’t keep Peter trapped here. It’s wrong, immoral, and selfish. 

He’s caught between his aching for Peter’s soft, loving touch and his need to keep Peter protected. Protected from himself, it seems.

It’s not fair how he has to be the one to send Peter away, Tony thinks, but then again when has anything in his life ever been fair?

So, resigning himself to a desolate fate, he sighs, “Yes, Peter.”

It’s silent, again, for a moment as Peter turns away from Tony’s gaze. Clear as day, the expression of hurt  seeps into his beautiful honey eyes. His lips quiver ever so slightly and he nods with the same forlorn acceptance of someone who’s in mourning. And Tony wants nothing more than to wrap Peter up in a comforting hold - to tell him that everything will be alright - but he’s perceptive enough to know that would only hurt Peter more.

“If that's what you want,” Peter says, voice shaking.

All of Peter’s certainty evaporates. He can feel himself crumbling, helpless to do anything about it. He’s not quite sure what to do next except for leave like Tony had said.

So, he removes himself from Tony’s lap robotically; his body moving on its own as if he’s been possessed. 

The edges of his vision blur and darken as the world around him begins to fall apart.

He spares one last glance at Tony - who, on the outside, looks quite unbothered by this whole situation while Peter’s quite obviously unraveling at the seams - before getting in the elevator and shakily pressing the button for the main lobby.

The elevator doors close and the sorrowful darkness attacks Peter. He can feel himself drowning in an endless ocean of grief; being pulled around by the tides and completely helpless to do anything about it.

Every part of him is aching, the pain almost choking him, and it fills him until he’s overflowing in the form of tears spilling from his eyes. 

He holds himself and sits in a corner of the lift as tears stream down his face.

Anguish builds in Peter’s throat and comes out a broken sob, “Why?”

There’s no answer for him. There never is. Not with his parents’ death nor his uncle’s and he doesn’t see why life would spare him this one either. All this grief always placed on him and - for a moment, brief and fleeting but wonderful nonetheless - he thought he had finally found happiness within the darkness.

He’s so caught in his heartache and can’t bring himself to think about anything besides Tony despite that only hurting him more.

It’s almost comical when the elevator chimes a friendly tune to alert Peter he’s at the main lobby.

When Peter steps off he can feel everyone’s eyes crawling all over him, but he doesn’t care what they think of him.

He speedwalks through the lobby, just wanting to get home as soon as possible. He keeps his eyes firmly focused on the floor. His heart is heavy and weighed down by rejection, but - even if his dignity is long gone at this point - he still tries to calm his crying to no avail. The tears continue to fall with little regard of how he feels about it, which makes him cry harder.

He stumbles his way to his apartment and stops in front of the apartment door. He can hear his breath, shaky from his endless sobbing and from the walk back. He half-heartedly tries to calm himself to no avail.

The first thing his blurry, teary-eyed vision sees when he opens the door is Aunt May sitting on the sofa. She looks at him for only a second before rushing to him and bombarding him with questions.

It’s all in good faith, Peter’s sure, but it just makes him sink even further into his sorrow.

He’s too vacant to truly process any of her questions at the moment, so he just accepts her warm embrace and sobs helplessly into her arms. She pets his hair and coos to him, but it doesn’t help. He’s honestly not sure anything will.

Through the fog of his grief he hears Aunt May say, “This is the second time you’ve come home crying because of that man, Peter, I will go down there myself if I have to.”

“No,” he says, voice wrecked from crying, “no, it’s fine, Aunt May, I’ll handle it.”

Her voice is sharp as she asks, “What needs to be handled?”

Peter hesitates.

The situation is complicated and he struggles to find the right words to properly explain it. Even if he could, May’s done so much for him already and the thought of bothering her with relationship troubles seems useless at best - burdening at worst. And - whether either of them like it or not - Peter’s an adult now which means he has to start handling certain things on his own.

“I just messed something up,” Peter lies, already feeling guilt joining the cocktail of emotions that is his eternal suffering, “it was pretty important, but I’ll fix it later… it’s just been a pretty tough day.”

He sniffles, his tears finally drying out. He rubs the wetness off his face and looks up at her with a smile dampened by sadness.

He forces a reassuring tone as he says, “It’ll be fine.”

May looks at him for a moment, her eyes stern and studying behind her glasses, before sighing, “Okay, but tell me if you need anything.”

Peter nods, “Of course, Aunt May.”

He winces at the sound of his voice which is still cracked and uneven from his crying. But, for the time being at least, May seems convinced that Peter isn’t falling apart which - in his opinion - is a job well done.

Peter slumps off to his room and then flops into his desk chair. He forces himself to breathe deeply to calm his nerves. He’s somewhat able to get his bearings despite still being knee deep in the waters of misery.

His mind’s brimming with questions; all of which are, unsurprisingly, unanswered.

The kiss wasn’t just a kiss. It felt like so much more… or that’s how Peter felt, anyway, and he was almost positive that Tony felt the same way.

For a long while, Peter’s noticed the way Tony’s eyes linger on him; the way Tony watches him with an unreadable stare. And the things that Tony says to him - while always subtle - present very clear implications.

And, sure it took some convincing, but Tony kissed him back and seemed to enjoy it just as much.

Peter struggles for a moment as he considers maybe…

Maybe he has been reading too much into things? Even though that provokes a nigh unbearable ache in his heart it’s really the only thing that makes sense.

Those longing stares, just figments of Peter’s hopeful imagination, those subtle comments just jokes, even the kiss - so meaningful to Peter - just another kiss to Tony.

While it all meant the world to him it was just another day for Tony, he realizes.

He stares at his desk, that’s all he really can bring himself to do. There’s an emptiness in Peter’s heart suddenly and he feels dizzy from it.

Everything’s just falling and falling and - like always - he can’t do anything to stop it. He feels tremors wrack through his body as the overwhelming tides of grief make their unwelcome return.

A sob forces its way through his throat.

It’s like being buried alive, he thinks, alone and helpless; resigned to your grim fate.

He allows himself to cry this time, though, feeling just a little safer in the confines of his room.

He trods over to his bed and plants himself between the covers as his crying continues. He turns and comes face-to-face with an Iron Man Build-a-Bear.

He nearly screams.

He throws the stupid bear out of sight, not really caring where it lands, and pulls the covers close. 

He tries so desperately to force himself into a fitful sleep but he can’t. Tony’s laugh, his jokes, his compliments all play on repeat inside of his head. And, try as might, the only image his brain can conjure is Tony’s stern eyes and sweet smile.

Back at Stark Tower, Tony is going through a similar dilemma.

He wants so badly - almost needs - but it’s his job to do right by Peter. And he knows, even if it kills them both, Peter will be better because of this.

Tony tries to keep his resolve, but it continues slipping. He loves Peter so much and now that they’ve been separated Tony feels like he’s dying.

Peter’s an angel. His curls are soft, silky and brown; his eyes are vibrant - shining like pools of liquid gold; his lips pulled into an almost perpetual smile and flushed carnation.

Tony knows he’s let heaven slip through his fingers, but hell is a comfort few understand like he does.

He continues fighting with himself as the voice in his head, once an inconsequential whisper, screams at him to return to Peter’s side. The moral part of him reminds him why he’s done this and why, despite all the pain it’s caused, it’ll be good for him and Peter in the end. 

Tony feels a familiar, frightening itch under his skin to grab a bottle of whiskey.

He considers, for a moment, that maybe this is hell. That he might’ve died and this is his torture for his lustful attachment to his ward.

He’s quite uncertain how to move forward now.

He wants nothing more than to embrace Peter, kiss him, love him to the ends of the world and back. It eats away at him and rolls through his body. He starves for Peter’s affection; it makes him feel like an insatiable monster.

But, despite it all, Tony forces himself to ignore it. Ignore the way his heart chases after Peter, ignore the forlorn expression Peter wore when he was sent away. Ignore it all, push it down and suppress it until it disappears.

He gets up from the couch. No use wallowing in sadness, he supposes, as he begins stalking off to the lab.

The elevator door chimes, though, stopping him in his tracks. A bright forest fire of hope ignites in his chest. His secret, guilty desire that Peter will come back and demand more. It shocks him how quick and turns and-

It’s Pepper. The lights flicker on as she steps through the elevator (thanks, FRIDAY).

Tony can feel the disappointment tug at his features and he can’t be bothered trying to hide it.

“A couple people saw Peter walking through the lobby crying his eyes out,” Pepper says.

Pepper has an ice cold stare while her lips are held in a stern, straight line. She stands there; her heels firmly planted on the floor with her arms crossed.

Tony’s heart clenches at the thought of sweet Peter walking through the lobby, tears streaming down his pretty face as he heads home hopelessly.

“Oh,” Tony says. He looks at the spot next to Pepper instead of subjecting himself to her judgemental stare.

Pepper says, “Oh? So, you know something about this?”

Her voice is accusatory right out of the gate. Which is fair, she - although while never saying anything outright - has always seemed to understand there was more to Peter and Tony’s relationship than the surface.

“It’s complicated, Pep,” Tony says.

Pepper says, “Well, uncomplicate it then, Tony.”

“We kissed, he told me he loved me, and that’s not okay so I told him to leave,” Tony says, voice getting meeker as he reaches the end of his sentence, truly realizing how much of an ass he sounds like.

“Why the hell would you do that?” She asks.

She walks toward him, her steps so filled with vitriol that Tony’s genuinely worried she’s going to hit him.

Tony says, “Peter’s a good person. He deserves someone who can give him what he needs and that someone is not me, Pep!”

“Do you love him?” Pepper asks.

Tony pauses.

She sighs, “Do you love him or not, Tony?”

“Of course! Of course I love him! Who wouldn’t?” Tony says, “He’s amazing, brillant, beautiful - I would literally die for him, Pepper, but - no matter how much I love him - us getting together would only hurt him.”

Pepper’s unimpressed expression doesn’t inspire confidence in Tony.

She exhales deeply before saying, “It’s not your job to protect him anymore. He’s an adult now, he’s got his own ambitions and his own life and he can make his own decisions. You don’t get to decide that you’re not good enough for him.”

“That’s… no, Pep, no I… just - he’s so-” Tony rambles on, making random gestures with his hands.

She snaps, “Tony!”

Tony’s mouth shuts and he looks at her.

“Listen to me, very carefully, okay?” She says.

Tony nods.

“Okay,” Pepper continues, “what you are going to do, because you love Peter so much, is you are going to find him and apologize for sending him away and you are going to tell him how you feel.”

Tony shakes his head, “I can’t-”

“You can,” She cuts him off, “and you will, otherwise, Tony, you will lose him and you will spend the rest of your life wallowing in regret of what could’ve been.”

She gives him a brief, supportive smile before the clicking of her heels signal her departure.

Tony sighs and rubs at his face.

Maybe, he thinks, being selfish one more time won’t hurt.

*

Peter’s hiding under his covers. He’s blocking out the world in a futile attempt to make the pain disappear. 

He feels the soothing melody of sleep sing to him. And just as he starts to fall asleep, he hears something tapping at his window.

He jolts up from his bed and looks to the window.

Tony Stark is standing on his fire escape like it’s the most normal thing in the world.

Peter blinks hard. He briefly wonders if he’s lost his mind; that maybe this is a delusion from his desperate mind.

Tony taps on the window and says, muffled by the glass, “We need to talk.”

Peter shuffles over to the window and opens it.

“What the hell are you doing?” Peter asks; a surge of incandescent rage sparking within him only for it to be snuffed out just as quick.

Peter steps back as Tony clambers through the window - basically falling through it.

Peter watches with a tight expression on his face.

He asks, voice much softer this time, “What are you doing, Tony?”

“I-” Tony says, standing then continuing, “I am… uh… well, I’m not sure what I’m doing, to be honest with you. But I’ve been tormented these past few months by my own soul. Peter, whenever I close my eyes you’re what I see and whenever I imagine heaven it’s you with me.”

Peter breathes deeply, “And what does this mean exactly?”

“It means that,” Tony pauses, forcing down his apprehension, “I love you. I love you with all my might and, for so long, I’ve restricted myself to just dreaming, but I can’t anymore. I can’t watch idly and let you slip through my fingers, Peter, and I must admit that I’ve been a selfish ass these past few months. However, if you can find it within yourself to forgive me, I’ll love you unabashedly and I’ll love you purely.”

A sudden rush of joy floods Peter so quickly he feels light-headed from it.

“Do you mean that?” He asks, his voice so soft he wonders if the words even left his lips in the first place.

Tony nods and grabs Peter’s hands in his own. He presses his forehead against Peter’s and they stare into each other’s eyes for a moment.

“I say this with all my conviction, darling,” Tony whispers, voice raw, “you are the only one for me.”

Peter feels a stuttered breath pass his lips. A fiery feeling, that of pure want, burns throughout his body, infecting his mind, soul, and body until there’s hardly anything left.

He smiles, “I forgive you… I don’t think I could ever bring myself not to.”

“So, we’re together then?” Tony asks as he brims with apprehension.

Peter says with a watery smile, “We always have been.”

The world seems to pause for a moment as they look in longing at each other. It’s a sudden uncertainty, they’ve been gifted the most coveted treasure of all. Love. They are both nervous in each other’s arms as they hesitate; in fear that one wrong move will send it all crashing down.

Tony’s eyes trace Peter’s face. His eyes dark, gentle as they admire Peter with such delicate precision Peter swears he can almost feel it.

Tony studies Peter; his eyes of chocolate, his strawberry lips, and porcelain skin with a flush so perfect it looks painted on.

Tony rests his hand on Peter’s jaw and swipes his thumb across the young man’s bottom lip. Peter’s tongue reacts immediately darting out to lick the calloused fingertip.

The action, simple as it is, sparks a bright fire within Tony’s body. An even deeper want filled with sensuality and sex. He can feel the last of his restraint unraveling until nothing remains, but - unlike before - he does not scramble to stop it. In fact, he encourages the last of his hesitations to slip through his fingers.

“I want you,” Tony admits ashamedly.

For he feels such remorse for lusting after someone as near divine as Peter. 

Peter only smiles; his lips upturned in a knowing smile and eyes glittering with golden mischief. With his voice soft and soothing, like the summer wind sweet in its brevity, he says:

“Then take me.”

[mbti-mom]

Myers Briggs Cognitive Functions (How To Figure Out Your Myers Briggs Type)

It’s been awhile since I posted on here, but I wanted to post something that would be helpful. Often on the internet I see a lot of misconceptions about the Jungian cognitive functions, so I wanted to try and create more compact summaries of the functions as Jung described them. I’m currently waiting for my WikiHow article on how to figure out your cognitive functions to get approved (if it ever will), so for now I’ll just write out what I wrote for the article here.

I also added some extra notes for beginners on the bottom if you are completely new to typology and confused about what any of this means.

Without further ado, I’ll now get into the summaries.

Introverted Feeling. Jung describes introverted feelers as 'Still waters run deep' type of people. They are quite silent and inaccessible, and can be rather difficult to understand. They often act childishly or banal, and sometimes quite melancholic. They don't tend to shine, and rather keep a type of concealed air about themselves. They don't wish to change others or affect others and don't care to impress. People see them as having a sense of indifference or coldness to their behaviors. They prefer not to be emotional, but their emotions often end up infiltrating their unconscious mind. People may see them and not think that they are feeling, but their feelings are intensive rather than extensive. They develop into their depth. When they try to express sympathy, it often looks like coldness despite their intentions, due to it doing nothing visibly. They may express their aim in inconspicuous ways, preferring to put their passions into things silently. Due to this, this type may often be drawn to the arts. This type of person may particularly draw in extraverted types of people. When they are unhealthy, they may become mischievously cruel or unscrupulous in their ambition.

Extraverted Feeling. Jung describes extraverted feelers as people who follow the guiding lines of their feeling. Their personality often adjusts to external conditions, such as the people that they are talking to. Their feelings correspond with objective situations and generalized values. They often have requirements for the people that they tend to date, and these tend to be things that can be measured on an external level. People who value this function highly often repress their logic to make room for their feelings. This does not mean that this person does not think logically at all, and they could easily think a great deal. They just prefer to use their feelings as a guideline and use their logic to back up what they feel. This type of person would be described in the phrase "I cannot think what I don't feel."  When this individual is unhealthy, they tend to become a servant to their feelings. These people may have the most obsessive and hideous thoughts during this time, which breeds even further doubt in them therefore furthering the control of emotions onto them.

Introverted Thinking. Jung describes introverted thinking types as being influenced by their subjective logical ideas. They will follow their ideas internally, seeking to understand their logic with intensity. This person may have a distinct feeling that they only matter in a negative way. They often will have an indifference to objective sources and prefer to stick to their subjective ideas. With this person, everything about them externally remains concealed. Their judgment appears cold, obstinate, arbitrary, and inconsiderate, simply because they are less interested in the objective reality than the subjective thoughts. Courtesy, amiability, and friendliness may be present in their behaviors, but they often display this with uneasiness. When it comes time for them to transplant their ideas into the world, they merely expose them and are annoyed when their ideas fail to thrive in objective reality. This person often lacks practical ability, and may even have an aversion to practical matters. If in their eyes their idea seems subjectively correct and true, it must also be in practice, and others have to bow to that truth. Hardly will they ever go out of their way to win anyone's appreciation of their ideas, especially if it be anyone of influence. At their unhealthiest, they may allow themselves to be exploited in negative ways if it means that they can continue their internal pursuit of ideas. Their convictions may become rigid and unbending, and they may become incredibly isolated and dependent on their internal world.

Extraverted Thinking. Jung describes extraverted thinkers as people whose constant aim is to bring their total life activities into relation with their intellectual conclusions. These intellectual conclusions are always oriented by objective facts or generally valid ideas. This type of person gives the deciding voice to objective reality, not only to themselves but to people around them as well. They determine good and evil through this measurement, as well as beauty and ugliness. All is right that corresponds with this formula, and all is wrong that contradicts it, and everything that is neutral to it is purely accidental. The person who refuses to obey this law is unreasonable or immoral in their eyes, and without a doubt has no conscience. Purely ethical aims may lead these individuals into critical situations, which sometimes have more than a semblance of being decided by quite other than ethical motives. These people may find themselves in deplorably compromising situations, or in dire need of rescue in this case. Their resolve to save often leads to them employing means which only tend to precipitate what they most desire to avoid. At their unhealthiest points, their desire to advance the salvation of man is so consuming that they will not shrink from any lying and dishonest means in pursuit of their ideal. They may neglect their health in pursuit of their ideals, even neglecting their family or the people that they care about. They may also become incredibly dogmatic, to a rigid extent.

Introverted Sensing. Jung describes introverted sensing as a type characterized by their peculiarities. They are an irrational type, as they are guided simply by what happens to them. They may stand out by the calmness and passivity of their demeanor, or by their rational self-control. They may have an illusory conception of reality, and in the worst-case scenario may even reach a complete inability to discriminate between reality and their subjective perception of reality. Due to their lack of knowledge of objective reality, they can often appear quite strange and odd in character due to their differing perception from objective reality. When others treat them badly, they may prefer to take a position of stubbornness and resistance than to full out aggressiveness. At their unhealthiest, they are incredibly aware of every ambiguous, gloomy, and dangerous possibility in their reality.

Extraverted Sensing. Jung describes extraverted sensing as a type characterized by their attentiveness to reality. Their sense of objective facts is extraordinarily developed. Their life is an accumulation of actual experience with concrete reality. This person does not believe themselves to be subject to sensation. They would actually ridicule that statement as being inconclusive since, from their standpoint, sensation is the concrete manifestation of life. Their aim is concrete enjoyment in objective reality, and their morality is similarly orientated. For in their eyes, true enjoyment has its own special morality, its own moderation and lawfulness, its own unselfishness and devotedness. This person may have little tendency for either reflection or commanding purpose. When they wish to create in objective reality, they do so aiming to fill their senses. They may be incredibly good at putting together aesthetics, or creating great sensational experiences. At their unhealthiest, they become crude pleasure-seekers or unscrupulous hedonists. They don't see reality as a beautiful thing anymore, but rather something to use to solely feed the endless need for new sensations. They may become incredibly jealous individuals running off of high anxiety. They may even turn morbidly primitive, or extremists in behavior.

Introverted Intuition. Jung describes introverted intuition as producing a peculiar type of person. This person may be a mystical dreamer and seer on one hand, and a fantastical crank and artist on the other. There is a general tendency of this type to confine themselves into the perceptive character of intuition. The intensification of their intuition naturally often results in an extraordinary aloofness of the individual from tangible reality, they may even be a complete enigma to their own immediate social circle. If they are an artist, they reveal extraordinary, remote things in their art. Their art may be lovely and grotesque, or whimsical and sublime. They may have visions, where they think to themselves "What does this thought mean for me and the world? What emerges from this vision for me and the world?" The pure intuitive who represses judgment will never meet this question fundamentally, because their only problem is the how of perception. They concern themselves with the meanings of their visions, and troubles less about its further aesthetic possibilities than about the possible moral effects which emerge from its intrinsic significance. At their unhealthiest, they may become quite impulsive, and struggle with unrestraint. They may also have issues talking to people about their visions, as they are often arguments without convincing reason.

Extraverted Intuition. Jung describes extraverted intuition as producing a person who is always aware where possibilities exist. They have a keen nose for things that have a promising future. They can never exist in stable, long-established conditions because they are always looking for new possibilities. Stable conditions often feel suffocating to them. They take on new subjects with extreme enthusiasm and intensity, only to abandon them cold-bloodedly and seemingly out of nowhere. As long as a possibility exists, this person feels bound to it. They have their own characteristic morality, which consists in a loyalty to their intuitive view of things. At their unhealthiest, they may rely entirely upon a perception of chance and possibilities. They may become incredibly attuned to hazards in their life. They may also become a hypochondriac as their fears and phobias increase.

What do I do now?

Order your functions. You will now need to order your functions from most used to least used. You will want to choose one thinking function, one feeling function, one sensing function, and one intuition function. Then order these based on the amount that you use each of them, from most to least.

In Jungian cognitive functions, there is a rule that each function in your stack has an opposite opposing it.

These opposing functions are thinking & feeling and sensing & intuition. Each person will have one of each function, and they can only have two introverted functions and two extraverted functions. You can't have two extraverted opposing functions, nor can you have two introverted opposing functions. You also can't have two extraverted functions paired right next to each other, or two introverted functions paired next to each other.

An example of this would be the function stack of ISTJ: They lead with introverted sensing, then their auxiliary function is extraverted thinking, then their tertiary function is introverted feeling, then finally their inferior function is extraverted intuition.

Another example is the function stack of ENFP. They lead with extraverted intuition, then their auxiliary function is introverted feeling, their tertiary function is extraverted thinking, and their inferior function is introverted sensing.

Remember that lesser valued functions will not be as apparent in your life. A high introverted thinking user may not relate to the extraverted feeling description of preferring emotion over logic, and that is to be expected. The function you value less is often suppressed for the greater function until you learn to use them in harmony.

Know the names of the cognitive functions.

Each function has a name as well as an abbreviation that is commonly used.

Introverted Feeling, also commonly referred to as Fi.

Extroverted Feeling, also commonly referred to as Fe.

Introverted Thinking, also commonly referred to as Ti.

Extroverted Thinking, also commonly referred to as Te.

Introverted Sensing, also commonly referred to as Si.

Extroverted Sensing, also commonly referred to as Se.

Introverted Intuition, also commonly referred to as Ni.

Extroverted Intuition, also commonly referred to as Ne.

The Types:

ISTJ - Si-Te-Fi-Ne

ISFJ - Si-Fe-Ti-Ne

ESTJ - Te-Si-Ne-Fi

ESFJ - Fe-Si-Ne-Ti

ISTP - Ti-Se-Ni-Fe

ISFP - Fi-Se-Ni-Te

ESTP - Se-Ti-Fe-Ni

ESFP - Se-Fi-Te-Ni

INTJ - Ni-Te-Fi-Se

INFJ - Ni-Fe-Ti-Se

ENTJ - Te-Ni-Se-Fi

ENFJ - Fe-Ni-Se-Ti

INTP - Ti-Ne-Si-Fe

INFP - Fi-Ne-Si-Te

ENTP - Ne-Ti-Fe-Si

ENFP - Ne-Fi-Te-Si

Learning how to narrow types. If you find that you have a function stack that is oddly laid out, such as Ni-Ti-Fe-Se, determine the closest likely type. In the case of those functions, the closest match would be INFJ. In the case where you relate to two extraverted functions of opposing function groups, you must determine which of the two you relate to more. For example, if you relate to both Te and Fe, try to narrow down which you think describes you better and choose the introverted function for the other one.

If you need any further help, feel free to shoot me an ask at any time.

[emerald-amidst-gold]

Ohh maybe 1, 2, 3, and 28? 👀

*takes a sip from my can of soda* Ahhh~! Caffeine for the soul~ >:3

But you know what's better for the soul? Questions! Curiosity! RAMBLING ABOUT CHILDREN! >:D Let's GOOOO!

1. What would your Warden generally think of your Hawke and your inquisitor?

Rylen: 

Now, I kind of see Elise eventually meeting or at least, reaching out to Rylen after the events in Kirkwall. After all, she’s an Amell, and so is Hawke. They’re literally the only family each other has (that’s not ‘found’ family, that is.). So, I think Elise would reach out through a letter or somehow manage a visit to her cousin and...connect. She would see him as inspiring; Rylen always manages a smile and a quip. However, if they were to spend more and more time interacting with each other, Elise would see that Hawke isn’t very well put together, especially after the Chantry explosion. She would question why Rylen chose the templars, why he executed Anders who was a like a brother to her, but eventually she would come to understand the whys. Elise would see it as no different as when she decided to spare Loghain at the Landsmeet; they did what they believed to be right and what would be best in that very moment. Both Rylen and Elise sacrificed their own happiness for the benefit of others, and were still blamed for future complications and there’s something comforting in a finding another who can relate. :3

Fane:

So, I actually have some later fic ideas for a confrontation between Elise and Fane (after Trespasser, kind of Pre-DA4 shenanas~), and suffice it to say, these two have similar ways of thinking, but their methods are entirely different. Fane is rash, prone to barreling head first into conflict without thinking about those around him. Elise is analytical, always assessing and placing the pieces in her head to make sure everyone comes out alive. This isn’t to say Fane doesn’t care about his comrades; he does. There’s countless, countless times he takes a blow for someone else without batting an eye or thinking that he could die. He just doesn’t plan; he acts. Fane can get lost in the moment of battle, in the heady scent of chaos and blood. Elise, at first meeting him, would see him as any typical warrior; eager for battle and a garden of death. But if they were to sit down and talk...I think she might find him endearing and fascinating. More or less she would think, ‘He’s so mature for someone so young. I mean, he’s twenty-four, but...he speaks as if he’s older. His speech is manicured, measured as if decided upon carefully. And his eyes...there’s pain, a deep, deep pain. Like some of the older Wardens, those just hearing the Calling. But also...hope? Conviction? Who are you, Inquisitor? What has the world done to you?’

2. What would your Hawke generally think of your warden and your Inquisitor?

Elise:

Rylen would probably have the same opinion of Elise as she does with him. They’re family, split apart due the misconceptions and fear, and my Hawke cherishes family. He lost everyone else he could rightly consider family. Fenris, Varric, Sebastian, Isabela, and Merrill are the only people he can call family now. (Anders and Aveline are complicated. I won’t go into that can of worms. For now~ >:3) He would definitely feel a level of guilt for what he had to do in Kirkwall with Anders, with the mages, with...everything, but Rylen just tries to make it through another day. If he and Elise started to interact I think it would be extremely beneficial to Rylen. Elise is patient, sometimes stern, and not afraid to lay all the facts out. Rylen would admire that since he’s had to go through life wearing a mask, a smile, a facade just to placate someone else. He would see Elise as another sister and his opinion of her would probably be along the lines of, ‘I won’t let another member of my family be torn from me. Father, Bethany, Carver...Mother.. I failed them. I won’t fail her. I won’t fail her. She’s bright and she keeps her head held high. Heh, now I see how she killed an Archdemon and lived to tell the tale. ...Bet the lightning has something to do with that, too.’

Fane: 

Rylen and Fane, in my head, actually hit it off from the get go. They’ve both had to take mantles of power, even though they never, never wanted to. Though, for different reasons, of course. But Rylen would find Fane inspiring and wholly capable of doing what must be done. He’d be kind of put off that most of his well thought out jokes and pokes would fall flat on Fane, but eventually, Rylen would see why that is. (Draconic nature withstanding.) Also, once my Hawke found out Fane is dragon?  OHHHH, BUDDY. There would be yelling and screeching and cries of, ‘WHY DO I KEEP MEETING DRAGONS, FENRIS?! FIRST THE WITCH, NOW THE INQUISITOR?! ..I’m done. I’m putting my daggers down and stealing away into the mountains. Varric, you wanna come with? I know you’re fed up with this shit, too! Don’t lie! DON’T. LIE.’

3. What would your Inquisitor generally think of your warden and your Hawke?

Elise:

Fane would probably think of Elise as...interesting. Not in a bad way. Just...interesting. Fane isn’t comfortable with Wardens after Adamant. He learns that he can hear the corruption inside of them and that terrifies him. And confuses him. And makes him go, ‘What the fuck am I? I don’t even know anymore. Why do I try?’ But, if he were to get over that and, like I said with Elise, talk? He would have another perspective of the men and women that had let fear take them by the throat. It wouldn’t change his feelings regarding the Wardens entirely, but one level mind, one open mind, is enough to make Fane tap into his nature and consider other sides of a very, very large cube.

‘She’s more...quiet than the others. Maybe because it’s just her? No...Loghain was still loud as fuck when it was just him, so why? Ugh, I’m so sick of these puzzles. At least she’s more stable, but I can see the pain in her eyes; green like mine, but missing the gold. Maybe the Taint is stronger than she thinks? Perhaps, but still she fights, still she claws her way towards something that may be impossible. ...Hmph. How typical. A similarity. This world continues to confound.’

Rylen:

Fane respects Rylen after spending some time to feel him out, know his cues, and piece together which is his actual face. Once that happens, Fane can move into respect with my Hawke. These two have a fairly similar moral compass; pragmatism regarding most decisions. Again, they both have been thrust into a position without asking for it, so that would be a stepping stone upon the bonding path. All in all, Fane’s general opinion of Rylen would be, ‘He’s worn that mask of smiles and bright, grey eyes for too long. It’s cracking at the edges, wearing down to mere mortar. Then again, I have my own mask. I’m in no position to judge and condemn, but...it’s worrying. Even the strongest wings can be torn and all that greets is the earth below. I hope your wings don’t falter, Champion. It would be disappointing for the world to lose someone who cares when those who should are content to point the finger towards anyone but themselves.’

28. What is their favourite location within their own game and what would be their favourite in each others?

Fane: The Emprise du Lion! Snowwwww! Coooold! Ice dragooooon! >:3 ...minus the red lyrium. *snorts* 

Origins: Hmm, I think Fane would like the Brecilian Forest. He enjoys forests as much as he enjoys the cold, the ice, and the snow. He likes the animals, even though he tries not to interfere with them, and he likes the quiet. No chattering, no demands. Only trees, leaves, and the occasional whistle of wind. Also, Fane likes to investigate ancient ruins. He’s not interested in the history, really. He just wants to see if he can find any remnants about his kin that the elves may have left behind. :3

DA2: Probably Sundermount since again, wilderness. Fane doesn’t do too well in crowded areas and Kirkwall would make his heart rate sky rocket. Not just because of the people, but because of the size. Those cramped streets of Lowtown would just make him...eugh. *shivers*

Elise: She adores Orzammar! Especially the Shaperate! The dwarves fascinate Elise since not many tomes in the Circle went into depth about them! :D And if we want to with Awakening areas, I would saaaay...Amaranthine. She’s always like towns and cities due to not being able to experience them until the Blight! :3

Inquisition: Elise would adore the Frostback Basin. Like, really enjoy it! All that flora and Avaar culture and wilderness? MMMM!

DA2: Definitely the Wounded Coast. Hands down. My daughter enjoys the sea so much. The salt in the air, the feel of sand, and the pretty, pretty shells and rolling waves? Every Circle mages’ wet dream. *waggles eyebrows*

Rylen: So, if we’re not talking like open world areas in the game, I would definitely say Rylen’s favorite place is the Hanged Man. The man needs a drink to deal with Kirkwall. Just saying. It’s also where he can just...be himself with the people who know him. 

Inquisition: Hinterlands. He’s a FERELDAN. He wants his MABARI to RUN in native land! He wants to...go home. ;3;

Origins: I like to think the Hawke family went all over Ferelden before settling in Lothering. I mean, they kind of do, but maybe for more than a few months at a time? So, Rylen would enjoy Denerim. He likes to go where people are, where life is. He likes crowds because he can blend into them and not be tracked down until he wants to be tracked down. ...My Hawke just wants to live in peace with his glowy elf husband and run a mabari ranch. Is that too much to ask, Bioware?! Let Hawke REST!

Woo! That was FUN! It really got me thinking, too! X3 Thank you so much, friend! <3

[thegirlwhohasnochill]

The Disease of Addiction

Euphoria Special Episode Part 1: Rue (Recap & Review)

Before I begin my official review of this episode, I would like to preface my thoughts with a bit of a primer about spoilers and trigger warnings. The show covers a range of topics from addiction to mental health. Still, I specifically want to warn anyone reading that I explicitly talk about and mention the topic of suicide in my review. If this is triggering for you in any way, please, don’t read ahead and take care of yourself! Okay, that’s it; I hope you enjoy my thoughts, and please let me know if you have any feedback or comments for my review and things I can change or fix in the future.

Where to begin with such a loaded episode...we knew the format and style of the episode would be simplistic based on the current realities of filming amidst a pandemic and what we saw to be a scene from Season 2 that the creator Sam Levinson expanded upon. Zendaya herself let us know that the episode's storytelling method would be vastly different from what we’ve already seen on the show. The format and simplicity of the episode, in contrast to the loaded dialogue and content of the scenes, are perfect. The camera takes you right into the middle of these conversations with Rue and Ali. But before we can even dive into what they talk about, we have to address the elephant in the room that is Rules. The episode begins with what is probably one of the most gut-wrenching sequences I have seen on the show. Because we know the reality and truth of their current predicament, Rue’s peppered kisses across Jules’ body and her tight squeezes and hugs from behind Jules evoke a strong sense of loss and pain for the viewer. The sheer intensity of the physicality of Rue’s affection for Jules is so overpowering and overwhelmingly present, we can almost feel the imbalance in their relationship through the screen. There is something to be said for the harsh reality of Rue’s dependence on Jules being reflected even in such a non-objective dream-like sequence. And yet, even in Rue’s wildest dreams and happiest stupor, she does not imagine the sobriety of her future. To me, that is indeed the crux of her character and the essence of this episode. Ali himself says, “The point is your sobriety.” And while it may feel like a focal point of discussion, the conversation flows in a way that seems to bounce back and forth between the two like a simple tennis match. It is easy to follow between Ali’s most potent clearest convictions about how the world works and Rue’s drug-addled hazy perception. The inherent contrast between their mental states and the different points of life in which they are both standing hit the viewer at alternate moments.

But we know Rue is not sober even as she lies to Ali and stumbles out of the bathroom, the shaky camerawork conveying her recent use. She is wearing the same shirt from the dream but has her signature hoodie on, her messy curly locks running down her back and glassy eyes staring straight ahead. The scene moves from her imagination of life with Jules to her lies about use. Her eventual admittance to being a high-functioning user happens as quickly as the conversation moves from sobriety to faith.

So I might be biased and hence don’t think I am incorrect in admitting that Zendaya has never given us a bad performance in her life. Even as she lies to Ali’s face and he is quick to call out her apparent contradictions, the faint slurring of her voice and her glazed eyes tell all. As striking as the conversation is, it feels even stranger for me to admit I felt comforted by Rue’s confession to thoughts of ending her life. And even as she admits to the darkest moments in her mind, Ali’s face and reaction are an even better neutralizer for what would generally be such an alarming thing to say to someone you barely know. As they continue to discuss her eventual relapse and all the reasons behind it (including racing thoughts encompassing “all the things I remember and all the things I wish I didn’t”), the viewer can envision the sequence of events that was shown to us in the finale - her fights with her mother and sister, her first time using when her father was fast asleep, her father’s death, her sister finding her after her overdose.

As much as I would like to quote the entire episode, I have to say Ali’s monologue about the idea that none of us are born evil and that society views mental illness and addiction as a personal moral failure rather than an overarching system many of us are incapable of overcoming, to be one of, if not the most decisive moments of the entire show. The line about coming out of the womb with “a few wires crossed” but still a beautiful baby girl eventually messing her way up through life struck a chord in me. I didn’t ask to be born this way. I don’t feel in control of my mind or the way it ever seems to work. And I’m always going to be a bad person. The disease of addiction and mental illness lets you - no, it makes you - view everything you have ever done in your life as not a consequence of the way your mind works, but as an active choice, you have consistently made, as you screwed up everything you’ve ever loved, and let down everyone you have ever cared about. The disease is not you as a person or even the way you think, and yet it is powerful enough to feel that way. Almost like the rapid cycling between mania and depression, the disease flips between, making you feel like the most powerful, invincible person alive and the absolute scum of the earth. There is nothing in between.

Ali’s backstory and his monologues about his change in faith from Christianity (when he was previously known as Martin) to Islam and the world's revolutions were fascinating. Side note: I did think the line about women converting to Islam was unnecessary, but I digress.

Rue’s understanding of the Narcotics Anonymous program's steps was the perfect way to bring in the conversation of faith. As she mentions her difficulty in coming to terms with the idea that there is greater power in charge of her behaviour and the way she surrenders herself to drugs, Ali chimes in with, “You don’t believe there is a power on Earth greater than Rue.” She disagrees and continues quoting and citing different sources she believes to be omniscient and great. And I absolutely agree with her. To me, there is no greater power than the source of art, the music that keeps me going, that feels like it’s the only thing keeping me from stopping the blood pumping through my veins. I understand Rue. But I also understand Ali. And yet, when Rue goes on to talk about the inexplicable workings of the world, my heart stops. There is no reason. There is no reason for the absolute pain and loss and suffering I’ve experienced, for the trauma I’ve witnessed and endured. For the absolutely horrifying things, the people closest to me have lived through. It is merely chaos. There is no reason I wake up every single day, regretting the fact that I did indeed wake up and that I am alive and breathing. So I Understand Rue. But Ali’s monologue about the moral arc of the universe and the unfathomable ways in which life and history line themselves up, to open our very eyes to the realizations we come to daily, is overwhelming. And yet, while he is waxing poetic about the intricacies of the world, we can see Rue’s exhausted eyes glaze over further, still unimpressed. “Maybe I’ll start a revolution like Malcolm X or something”, she quips back. But Ali is quick to counter; revolutions are no longer revolutionary.

Life as we know it is hypocrisy and foolish symbolism, only emphasizing his point about the universe's ridiculousness. Does any of it have meaning? Or is the meaningless void just another puzzle piece in a picture we will never get to see? There is also something to be said about Rue’s facial expressions as Ali continues his train of thought about her “generation”. As we often do when we hear our elders dismissively brush off our many concerns, she almost rolls her eyes. But he is listening, and he knows. “You think you’re out here fighting a revolution, and Bank of America is on your side? Give me a fucking break.” He’s not wrong. His speech reminds me of the masses of teens on TikTok creating video content specifically catered to an audience with an aesthetic that glamorizes the image of a revolutionary teen hero. But instead of a blazing bow and arrow, it is the common cell phone and a punchy soundtrack filtered through digitized audio. What would typically come across as preachy in any show catered to teens is, in fact, poignant. It also reminds me of how self-aware Euphoria is, knowing it’s guilty of falling into the same trap it accuses the viewer of doing.  

You have to commit to bettering yourself, Ali essentially tells Rue. And to me, that is the most inherently human struggle we will ever face in our lifetimes. As long as we exist, we have to face the idea that each day is, in fact, not going to be easier than the last. And when he tells her that he believes in her and that the hope of her success (that may one day come) should be greater than the failure of her current demise holding her back, I want to cry. I keep thinking about that edit of Rue to this is me trying by Taylor Swift.

The music of the song that Jules has texted to Rue swells, and it is easy to get caught up in the angst of the moment. It accompanies the words, “I miss you.” And if it wasn’t for Ali’s conversation with his daughter as background noise, one would simply soak in the gut-wrenching pain of their separation. The juxtaposition of Ali trying his absolute best to cling to his family as Rue continues to isolate herself from her loved ones and push herself further into the abyss makes my heart physically hurt.

Ms. Marsha’s spell-binding words of wisdom about sobriety and relationships compared to Rue’s tired exhaustion imminently displayed on her face make the viewer a little wary of what comes next. Her misunderstanding of a juvenile relationship with Jules is made clear when Ali confronts her about the fact that the two of them never had a real conversation about their feelings for one another. Rue’s distrust in the idea that things will eventually work themselves out stems from the fact that she feels disappointed by how her loved ones have left her so far. She eventually spirals into this negatively destructive way of thinking. She cognitively recognizes and justifies getting left behind because she thinks and believes she deserves terrible things in life. She lists examples of past deeds to further cement her argument. But Ali counters back with the simple statement that “Drugs change who you are as a person.” Regardless of her actions, he believes she is still a genuinely good individual while she argues that she is absolutely not. My favourite part of this whole conversation and the entire episode is the manner in which Ali questions Rue’s negative cognitive patterns. Her brain and mind essentially excuse bad behaviour by convincing her that she will never be a good person. Hence she can never forgive herself, and thus, she will continue to remain in this cyclical pattern. Our actions may be inexcusable, but they do not line up with our intentions. The inevitable human struggle is not whether we are fundamentally good or bad, evil, flawed or perfect, but if we are (and again, not to quote my other favourite show, The Good Place) trying to be a better person than we previously were. If we recognize that our actions are wrong and we are capable of experiencing remorse and regret for said actions, who's to say we are entirely incapable of change. This reductive polarizing, and dismissive way of thinking is characteristic of the brains of most people living with a mental illness. Our outside influences, such as drugs, can all be contributing external factors to how we conduct ourselves through life. Ali’s short bit about redemption and human beings deeming actions unforgivable forever can easily be paralleled to direct conversations we have online about “cancel culture”. The phenomenon of dismissing and reducing someone to their mistakes instead of allowing them to grow from them is a nice sentiment. Still, if we do not truly take accountability into action and witness no real changes or remorse, we can quickly get stuck in that cycle. Even if our beliefs do not line up with our actions, drugs can eventually change that. The belief system we hold so dearly, the convictions we strongly feel, can all be washed away by the simple use of drugs, Ali explains as he tells Rue about his family background. His experiences with abuse and his eventual hypocrisy as he plays the role he always feared in his family leave the viewer speechless. As we watch him tell his tale of regret, there is no woe or sorrow in admitting he is or isn’t a fundamentally good or bad person, just the thought of his attempt to change his ways that impacts the viewer.

As the viewer waits with bated breath to see what comes out of Rue’s mouth next, it is not a surprise (to me personally). Rue has no intention of staying sober because she has no intention of staying alive much longer. Ali asks her why she feels that way. She responds with her sentiments about the cruelty of the world. Ali understands. We truly are living in dark times, witnessing truly horrific events, and the fact that we even have the capacity to care any longer is indicative of our will to stay alive. It doesn’t make much sense when you think about it, but when you are so sad, so grief-stricken by the news, by the world’s turn of events, by the mere thought of witnessing more tragedy that you cannot bear to be alive any longer, it means that you are deeply invested. Invested in the way things will turn out even if you do not personally believe you want to participate or even be privy to being complicit in a system that does nothing but churn out pain, anger, and hatred. When I was at the lowest point in my life and attempted to end my own life, I was overwhelmed by the goings-on of the world. As emotionally drained as Rue is, a part of her still cares. She wants her sister and mother to know that she really tried. Just as I wanted and still want my parents and friends to be okay without me when I do eventually leave this earth. Of course, I care about what happens to them. The idea that suicide or suicidal ideation is inherently selfish is so contradictory to the reality of how suicidal individuals genuinely feel. It is the opposite. We care more than most, and we care to the point that it hurts to extend another moment of kindness to ourselves amid all the chaos and madness of the world. But still, we try. We do our best. Ali believes in Rue. He has faith in her.

The entire episode ends on a melancholy note as Rue and Ali depart the diner with Rue wistfully staring out the window as he drives her home. Ali loves his conversations with Rue and vice-versa. The fact that two people can be sitting at a diner alone on Christmas Eve talking about the beauty and cruelty of the world and everything ranging from politics to addiction to suicide to love to family and anything in between goes to show us that humans will always find a way. The fact that two people struggling and suffering from addiction can find their own way about and amidst the chaos of the world and still have these meaningful conversations about life and existence tells us that ultimately, Trouble Don’t Last Always.

[posthungergamessyndrome]

so here’s my long overdue review of The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes that no one asked for. I finally read the book, well listened to the audiobook, coz i dunno how to read a book anymore. 

This book was everything I expected it to be and also not. Definitely the first two parts was easily predictable, we all kinda assumed that was the general arc that story would take. So while I found the first two parts enjoyable, learning more about the history of the games and learn more of Capitol, i wasn’t really hooked until the third part.

But let me say this first tho, Ms. Suzanne Collins, you never disappoint. Also I have questions and I hate that she wasn’t able to go on a book tour (I haven’t read her Q&A tho). 

I still have the same qualms as i did about the prequel as i did before I read it. While I get the early records of the games were shoddy, and the 10th Hunger Games was erased but for one copy hidden in some vault, that doesn’t matter, what matter is Snow knows.

So If Snow had that relationship with the Games and Lucy, the first victor of d12, a lot of the decisions he made in the trilogy made no sense.

I get it, he wanted to forget, it’s decades until Katniss came along. While there might be parallels, Lucy and Katniss are very different characters. But all I can think off is the reason he didn’t kill Katniss sooner, was it really because she would end up a martyr or rallying cry for the district, which happened anyways, or he was practically disassociating the moment Katniss was reaped?

Were Katniss and Peeta unintentionally triggers to so many of his hidden traumas that’s why he made so many misteps? Katniss singing the meadow song to Rue, triggered. Peeta mentioning the Valley song, triggered. Mockingjay, triggered. The Hanging Tree, triggered. 

Was he so busy crying in the shower that he wasn’t able to stop Seneca Crane from making bad calls during the 74th Games? Two winners from the same district, would Snow really okay’d that himself?

And also, I’ve always thought that anything he did towards Peeta was coz he wanted to hurt Katniss. But no, he wanted to hurt that boy. Peeta reminds him of his young self, at least the young person everyone saw him as, charming, smart, and loyal. And in a way, had Peeta been born in the Capitol and was among Snow’s contemporaries, Snow would have seen him as his ultimate rival. 

Coz Snow was smart and knows how to manipulate people, but Peeta does it a lot better and a lot more successfully. With Snow, it’s right in front of his face and he still misses it. Often he is so close to getting it. How could he not have thought of the star-crossed lovers angle? How??  When one Peeta Mellark thought of it?

Which idk if there’s fanfics of that yet, but I need to read them asap, Katniss and Peeta and teen Snow, make it happen.

(But I was looking at my notes and I wrote probably the reason Snow didn’t think of the star crossed lovers angle because it was about his survival not about Lucy’s. Lucy was at best, seen as his possession. Even at the moments he was honestly in love with her, he still saw her as someone belonging to him only. )

Snow had two relationships going on: with Sejanus and with Lucy. I did find his relationship with Sejanus more interesting, because I think it’s that relationship that shaped him more that his relationship with Lucy.

I did like and even at some points enjoyed their Slytherin-Hufflepuff BFFship going on, coz despite how Snow let us know what he really thinks versus what he actually says, he was drawn to protect Sejanus, even though he’s reluctant about it or insist that he was made to do it or it’s also to benefit himself.

And I’m not saying there’s queerbaiting in this book, but certain pairings in this book makes more sense to ship than Johanna and Katniss. 

With Lucy, i know many were wary or didn’t want Snow to have a relationship with her. For me i was open to it, at least intrigued to see where it will go or how will it be handled. 

Honestly while it is still better written than most YA romances, I found it very insta-love. Again, my sense of timeline in this novel might be different coz I was listening to the audiobook instead of reading it, but they fell in love pretty quick. 

While listening to the audiobook, i thought, if their  relationship is at this point it must have been weeks since the reaping and the games haven’t started yet, and then Snow says it’s just been five days. They were making out I think by day 3 or something. 

Maybe because I knew they relationship was doomed from the start and we know how Snow ends up, I was amused by certain moments in their relationship, coz all I can think about it is, oh honey no. 

but also, I am mad that Ms. Collins is capable of writing amazing fluff moments in the midst of a dystopian world, and she wastes them on Snow and Lucy? Where was all that for Katniss and Peeta? i was given crumbs in the trilogy, Snow and Lucy made out so many times, at one point I even thought they were going to sleep together, like how dare you Ms. Collins.

For the many years we debated the meaning behind The Hanging Tree, Ms Collins, said no hun, this is what the songs means, let me tell you it’s origin story. And omg Suzanne, that was fucked up. Thanks.

One of the things I was worried about for this prequel is that while it is set in the future, the messages in it will seem outdated because a lot has changed since the trilogy came out. 

But she wrote this book well before it was announced in 2019, before it was released in 2020, but she still made it very relevant for today and I think the messaging of this prequel would be more resonant in the future, like the trilogy is.

She touched upon how we really value children, and that immediately reminded me of school mass shootings and how we haven’t done anything about it. She lives in Sandy Hook when the shooting happened so this makes sense she makes a statement about it. And now we are sending kids to school in a middle of a pandemic for political reasons not because we are concerned about their education. 

And there’s also mentions of a pandemic in a middle of a war,  let’s say it was a whole mental experience alternating between listening to the audiobook and watching the news on January 6. 

I also loved the lines: “why do people think the only thing they need for a revolution is anger?” and “we pour money into industries not people.”

While it’s almost unbelievable that the modern hunger games was merely a student group project by a bunch of privileged rich kids and one person who thinks slavery is okay ended up writing the whole thing anyways, that’s basically how this country and our system of governance was founded. 

Dr. Gaul is also every Security and Development professor I had in grad school who teaches that war never ends and it’s not about winning it’s about control to a class of future leaders at the state department, white house, and pentagon. i mean, it’s the cornerstone of US foreign policy since end of WW2.

While also listening to this book, I am dead sure that Suzanne could write a different version of Catching Fire where Katniss and Peeta were mentors and they uncover the hidden 10 hunger games tape, and it still will be a be hella of a story.

It also makes sense that the two characters that could possibly tell us or Katniss the connection of Snow to Lucy were the ones who can’t talk: Mags and Tigris. 

obviously lucy ended up in 13, possibly related to Alma Coin coz where else will she get that personal hatred against Snow? 

Snow could have at least picked Clemensia or Lys, but Livia? i guess make sense since her offspring ended up being Plutarch’s assistant. 

I feel like if i read the prequel before the trilogy, it would be a different reading experience. But at the same time, Snow, while he had his moments, is an unlikeable character even as an anti-hero, and his moral stand point is something i dont agree with, coz you know, he’s basically a republican. it’s like reading a book about a young Mitch McConnell, doesn’t matter if the system hurt him sometimes, as long as it hurts others more and keeps him in control, and i gag. I don’t think i would finish reading the prequel if i started with it instead of the trilogy. 

but it does solidifies my theory that Snow’s evil is not because he is out of touch with the rest of panem, he knows suffering that’s why he knows how to exploit it. He is not oblivious to the problems, but he arrived at different conclusions or convictions, because again he supports the system that controls his enemies, even if the system is cruel to him too. Again, a Republican. Don’t be one, don’t date one. 

I do wonder tho if he made good with champagne tuesdays when he became president. 

I don’t see how this prequel works as a movie adaptation tho, even if turned into three parts. It makes more sense for it to be a series, so if lionsgate hasn’t declared bankruptcy before they can adapt this into screen, maybe with the state of movies right now due to the pandemic, they will be more convinced to make this into a series for Netflix or to launch their own streaming service.    

[jeanandthedreamofhorses]

Of Gods, Monsters, and Men

“Man is by nature a social animal [...] Anyone who either cannot lead the common life or is so self-sufficient as not to need to, and therefore does not partake of society, is either a beast or a god.” - Aristotle

This diagram will make sense, I swear.

Part 1 - Humans, Gods, and Beasts

Aristotle’s tripartite system is profoundly embedded in the world of SNK.

Humans, the social animals, are the ordinary people who do not seek to make an individual mark on history, but instead live communal existences as cogs in a machine. The most important thing to them is usually the well-being of themselves and their loved ones.

They are considered weak as they do not struggle against the flow, but these very attributes are what make them human.

The vast majority of the human race fit into Aristotle’s definition of ‘social animals’, as that is the only way in which society can function. The existence of those ordinary humans, then, is worth preserving.

Those who are not social animals, but rather lead highly individual existences with the power to leave their own unique mark on the world, are Gods when viewed positively and Beasts when viewed negatively. Because they go against the flow and disrupt the status quo, they are demonised by those happy with that status quo and lionised by those who are not. In either scenario, they stand out from the crowd.

Gods are considered to be strong and special. 

The apex of this specialness is symbolised in the series through its pseudo-Gods, like Ymir Fritz, and those with godlike powers like the Ackermans and titan shifters, especially Zeke and Eren.

The entirety of the Eldian race, by virtue of the power to turn into titans, can also be considered special and so are lionised as gods by the Eldian nationalists.

However, they are considered Beasts by the rest of the world because of that same uniqueness. The apex of beastliness in the series is in the titans themselves, the ultimate ‘Other’. Nothing can be as estranged from the human social community as they are, as uniquely disgusting, uniquely powerful creatures.

With this tripartite system established, however, the series deliberately complicates all three of its boundaries. To begin with, let us examine the disintegration of the boundary between Beasts and Gods.

Part 2 - The ‘Other’

Beasts and Gods are ultimately the same thing - they are an ‘Other’, defined by their lack of dependence on their community and, consequently, their status outside of it. This separate status makes them an unsocial animal, and therefore, not human. Whether this inhumanity is a good thing or a bad thing - godly or beastly - is only a matter of perspective.

There is no better proof of this than the personage of Eren Jaeger. 

From the start, Eren has had no desire to be a ‘social animal’. He never catered to the opinion of the populace, and held them in outright contempt. 

He wanted to accomplish everything on his own, without relying on others.

He stuck to his dream of joining the Survey Corps no matter what anyone said, and won people round to his views instead of struggling to fit theirs.

Acting this way gained Eren a reputation as either a total idiot, as in Jean’s eyes, or as an example to be followed, as Connie, Sasha and the others saw him. When Eren’s titan power was unveiled, this dichotomy escalated: where Erwin saw humanity’s greatest hope, the Military Police saw an enormous threat to peace inside the walls.

He is seen as a beast or a god, but even before his titan powers were revealed, he would never let himself be considered a nobody. The values he nurtured - independence and the strength to go against the present flow - were part of his desire to become inhuman.

It is therefore thematically appropriate that someone so fixated on the inhuman should become a titan. In his efforts to become a god, he becomes the beast he sought to vanquish. For they are one and the same - and this goes for the titans, too. Their status as an Other, not merely as a beast, is what makes them the natural enemy of humanity.

Moral doctrines that try to sort beasts from gods and drive a hard wedge between them only serve to obscure the truth. 

The Church of the Walls is the best example of this exercise in futility. It reviles the titans as beasts and worships the Walls as gods for protecting them against such beasts - but the Walls themselves are titans too. The distinction between beasts and gods is thereby revealed as nothing more than a sham by the authors of public morality to keep the public in line. Indeed, how often is it the case that the devil of the new religion is the god of the old?

Like the Church of the Walls, both those who respect and revile Eren in the Final Arc observe the same truth about him in different lights: he is an Other. And they fight to the death to decide what kind of Other - a god, or a devil:

A murderer, or a messiah:

Gentle, or savage:

The fandom is no less divided over him than the characters are, each side assured of their rightness. He is either an incorrigible child or an enlightened superhuman, the most free or the most enslaved, unchanged or the most changed of all, a pit to be avoid or a height to which we might aspire. Eren is the circle that completes itself, both the best and the worst, a beast and a god. But whatever he is, he is nothing in between, nothing mediocre. He occupies extremes alone: that is what makes him special.

Eren is fundamental proof of the failure of our value systems. He is a thought experiment who manages to sit at both ends of the spectrum while neglecting the middle altogether. At this point, we may return to our diagram.

A horseshoe works much better than a straight line for our purposes. Eren sits between god and beast, good and evil, special and titan, but a world away from the multitude of humans at the centre of the horseshoe.

However, he was not always this way. His compulsion to move away from the herd is the same as ever, and that is likely what he means when he tells people he has never changed: but there was once a time when for all his efforts, he could not quite escape being a social animal.

The significance of this fact is monumental. Eren proves that the special and the human are not distinguished from birth, but that there is in fact a pathway between them. This leads us to our third part: the disintegration of the boundary between the Human and the Other.

Part 3 - The Philosopher

Like love, specialness is something you find when you’re not looking for it. Eren’s journey towards the special first began with his acceptance of his own normality.

Beforehand, behind his play at independence he longed for recognition and approval from others.

He was tired of never being taken seriously - by his neighbourhood bullies, by Mikasa, by Jean. They all dismissed him as either crazy or weak and in need of protection. He was so prone to flying out in a rage at this because they touched on his greatest insecurities - that he was really a nobody after all, and that he’d never amount to anything.

In this regard Eren had a great deal in common with Keith, who wanted above all else to prove that he was better than the rest and worthy of being admired.

This was why Keith’s story had such a big impact on Eren, and why it was placed at the end of the arc where he learns to accept being only human. One cannot become special for the sake of the approval of others. So long as you have that objective in mind, you will never be anything more than a social animal and therefore human.

It was only once Keith abandoned any hopes of being seen as special that he actually became so, when he committed the ultimate sacrifice away from the eyes of anyone living. He acted with his own conviction in his heart, and not the approval of anyone else.

So he can finally receive the title of hero - one he clearly did not expect to hear. And it is a compliment he extends to Magath, no longer feeling the need to raise himself above anyone else.

In Eren’s case, he first learned the true virtue of self-sufficiency in the crystal cave, where he saved his friends’ lives by choosing to trust in his judgement and power over everyone else’s.

Eren is shocked after his success, and the lesson does not fully sink in at first. But such sentiments as the one below...

...quickly evaporate in Eren’s next moral trial, the Serumbowl. He can no longer accept peaceful co-existence between people with different beliefs because their decisions directly threaten the lives of the people he loves. This is the moment he redirects his focus to the protection of his and his own, and in doing so renounces his care for the wider world. The revelation that he will crush that outside world into ashes reinforces his belief in this conviction as the only solution.

Thereon out, Eren embraces self-sufficiency. He chooses not to trust in his comrades and builds his power to the point that he no longer needs to take orders from anyone else. Any help he does employ - from the SC or from Zeke and his followers - is achieved through manipulation, where he is firmly in control.

He becomes self-sufficient to the extent that he even moulds the conditions of his own upbringing. It cannot be said that he is a social animal any longer. His independence allows him to surpass his humanity and become both beast and god - walking on heavenly planes in the one moment and rampaging as a skeletal monstrosity the next.

Eren passes from ordinary into special through his self-sufficiency and self-orientation. This rigid self-discipline, this self-transformation, is a practice which we might call - philosophy.

Eren?

A philosopher???

Yet this is the only way a human might become a beast or god. The philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche, whose works synchronise beautifully with SNK, added one crucial modification to Aristotle’s equation:

“To live alone one must be a beast or a god, says Aristotle. Leaving out the third case: one must be both - a philosopher.”

And when one really thinks about it, is the idea of Eren as philosopher so ridiculous? Summarising a philosopher as ‘one who seeks the truth’ - who has accessed more of the truth of the world than Eren? The Attack and Founding Titans give him access to literal worlds of understanding beyond the scope of any other. And although Eren is dense at the start, he grows increasingly introverted and soul-searching as the series progresses. I think it is by no means a stretch to claim that Eren has come into his own jaded sort of wisdom.

Furthermore, Eren’s restless striving for freedom, his ‘Will to Power’ in Nietzsche’s words, is so powerful that he became stronger than Mikasa could ever hope to be and hatched a plan that even Armin couldn’t predict. It is his force of will that has always allowed Eren to overcome his weaknesses. So too psychologically - his wanderlust has taken him beyond the pale of morality and so made him the series’ only real philosopher in Nietzsche’s sense of the word, as a creator of new values.

It is the drive for freedom, then, that can turn a human into a philosopher and by that means become special. The divide is that simple, that fragile. And so the monstrous Other is simply human: all too human.

Eren’s words to Ymir Fritz are the definitive illustration of this theme. Ymir, who possesses the heights of power as a pseudo-divinity, who lacks a shred of power as a slave, manages to still be human. What unites all three aspects, what allows them to co-exist, is that freedom to choose. The drive for freedom that turned Eren philosopher is what allows humans to roam into the territory of beasts and gods.

So, rather than a horseshoe, this process is best represented as a fishhook, where a pathway exists between the opposite ends of Human and Other. Through philosophy, through the discarding and creation of values, through the drive for freedom and the Will to Power, this gap can be bridged.

It is at this point we come back to the words of Eren Kruger, and consider the full weight of their meaning:

Whether an Other is a god or a beast is merely a matter of perspective - but so is the ability to become an Other in the first place. The titans of history, its movers and shakers, were not a species above and beyond. They were anyone, as human as you and me, only ones who embraced their freedom and made a courageous choice.

This is the purpose of the titans being revealed as humans. This is the purpose of the whole concept of titan shifting, where even such social animals as Reiner and Annie are elevated to the level of the special. This is the reason why mere humans are able to successfully combat the titan Others through their own skill and ingenuity. This is why our heroes possess such manifold weaknesses and flaws, to remind us that even people as average as Eren, as scrawny as Armin, and as cowardly as Jean were able to become special by choosing the Survey Corps - that is to say, by choosing freedom.

The world we inhabit is a sordid one. It’s sickening seeing the levels of cowardice people exhibit in all aspects of their lives. “I would help you, but...I would stand up to them, but...I would do something about it, but...” etc, etc, and people make excuses to run away from their problems every time. It’s enough to hate the world and everyone in it.

The message SNK delivers is able to restore this dwindling faith. Because no matter how disgusting human behaviour can be sometimes, in others and in ourselves, within every single human is the potential to become as beautiful as the characters we admire - to become someone special. A little bit of courage is all it takes.

That, to me, is what makes humanity worth something. Because it is through that metamorphosis into the special that we fulfil our function as human beings: creatures which have the choice to remain within their humanity or transcend it. Just possessing that potential is enough to make humanity a gorgeous species - and so, before accomplishing anything, Carla could value Eren simply for being born into this world. He doesn’t have to be better than anyone else, because it is a power we all possess.

This human potential to become both god and beast is what prevents the world from boring us to death. The beasts make it cruel, and the gods make it beautiful. And with gods and beasts being one and the same, there can be no world that is beautiful without cruelty, or cruel without beauty.

[charliejrogers]

The Trial of the Chicago 7 (Or, Sorkin’s attempt to show you how nothing has changed in 52 years)

If you know anything about Aaron Sorkin, the much-acclaimed writer/creator of television shows like The West Wing, The Newsroom, you know that subtlety is not his strong suit. So, I was rather hesitant going into his newest film, The Trial of the Chicago 7, the infamous trial of eight gentlemen accused of conspiracy to incite violence/rioting in Chicago during the notorious 1968 DNC riots. Without diving too deep into the history, August 1968 was not Chicago’s finest hour. When the protesters chanted as a warning to the police, “The Whole World Is Watching!”, they weren’t wrong. Years ahead of the 24-hour news cycle, people all across America (and across the world) were glued to the TV watching the Chicago police beat the ever-living snot out of young folks protesting the Democratic Party’s decision to support the ever-controversial war in Vietnam. The film’s subject matter is sure to draw parallels to and resonate strongly with both the protests and civil unrest that took place this past summer following the death of George Floyd and countless other Black folk at the hands of police. So despite it’s appropriate timeliness, I was hesitant to watch this movie because I really wasn’t interested in watching Aaron Sorkin (who not only wrote but directed this film) try to mansplain to me that the trial of the Chicago 7 was all about injustice! Without knowing anything else about the trial beforehand (and I really didn’t), I already knew it’s a famous case of injustice. I wanted to watch the movie to learn about the people, the humans involved, and the nuance of the situation.

The film gets off to a rough start in the nuance department. After an effective montage introducing us to six of the eight members of the Chicago 7 (we’ll get to why there’s that numerical discrepancy), we meet the character who will be the lead prosecutor of the case: a straight-laced, clean-cut lawyer played by Joseph Gordon-Levitt. In an attempt to plant the seed early on that the eponymous trial is a sham, the first real scene of the film sees Gordon-Levitt meeting with Nixon’s newly appointment Attorney General John Mitchell who is pissed off that the prior AG didn’t resign from the office until an hour before Mitchell was confirmed. As retaliation, and in line with history’s understanding of Nixon’s pathologic paranoia, Mitchell decides to re-open the case exploring whether there was any conspiracy to incite riots in Chicago 1968. As JGL explains, this was something which Johnson’s AG as well as prior FBI investigations already decided did was not a viable case. The conversation that ensues is a little too on-the-nose. JGL shares his concerns that he doesn���t believe that the Chicago 7 are actually guilty, but Mitchell tells JGL, “then imagine how impressed I’ll be when you get a conviction.”

Of course, this conversation is largely a Sorkin invention, as is the weird decision to try to humanize the prosecutor played by Gordon-Levitt. I say "weird" because the film doesn’t do anything with it. We don’t get a real sense beyond that initial scene that JGL feels guilt or remorse for being a cog in the Nixon machine. The beginning of the film sets him up to be a similar character to David Schwimmer’s fascinating turn as Robert Kardashian in The People vs. O.J. Simpson. But in the end, it’s clear that Sorkin uses him just as a way in the beginning of the film to provide the thesis statement for the film, as if he were writing this script as a college term paper. This bothers me so much because it makes a late-film surprise appearance by Michael Keaton as Johnson’s AG lose a good deal of its impact. It would have been so much better if we as the audience came to the same revelation about the political origin of the trial at the same time that the defense lawyers did.

Sorkin’s lack of subtlety reared its ugly head in a few key moments that caused me to audibly groan while watching this film. Towards the end of the film, one of the more dramatic defendants, the merry prankster hippie Abbie Hoffman (played very well by Sacha Baron Cohen), is on the stand and is asked a particularly difficult question by the prosecution. He pauses. The prosecution asks what’s taking so long. Hoffman responds in a serious tone that runs opposite of his usual character, “Sorry, I’ve never been on trial for my thoughts before.” The film then slowly fades to black. I half-expected to hear the famous Law & Order “chun-chunn” sound next. That’s how cheesy and self-righteous the scene was.

The film’s ending too, where the defendants read off a list of all the fallen soldiers from Vietnam prior to their sentencing, felt a little too Hollywood to be believable… and indeed it didn’t happen that way. Elsewhere in the film, one of the more “prim and proper” defendants, the young head of the Students for a Democratic Society Thomas Hayden played by Eddie Redmayne, reflexively stands in honor of the judge’s exit as is court custom, forgetting that he and the rest of the defendants agreed not to stand. That’s not the bad part. The bad part comes later when Redmayne’s character travels to someone’s home and the Black maid who answers the door says to him, “I heard you were the only one to stand for the judge,” and then the camera just sorta lingers on her disappointment. We get it! The judge is a bad dude! Let’s move on!

Seriously, let’s move on. For all my griping, this is a very good movie. Those instances where Sorkin’s moral heavy-handedness is plain to see are so glaring because for the most part, the movie does a fantastic job of addressing the film’s (sadly still) politically controversial themes (police brutality, the culpability of protesters in starting riots, systemic racism, etc.) with a good deal of nuance. This mostly happens when Sorkin just sticks to the facts of the case, like when dealing with the whole saga of Bobby Seale, the eighth and only Black man of the Chicago 7. The day before the trial begins, Seale's lawyer required emergent surgery. Seale’s motion to have the trial postponed till he receive proper counsel is denied, as is his request to represent himself. Therefore, on trial without counsel, he frequently interrupts the court arguing about the unconstitutional nature of his trial, until the judge, played to chilling perfection by Frank Langella, becomes fed up with the interruptions and orders that Seale be bound, gagged, and chained to his chair. It’s a crazy powerful and uncomfortable scene, among the most haunting images I’ve seen in cinema. Finally, Seale’s case is determined to be a mistrial, changing the number of defendants from eight to seven. Hence, the Chicago 7.

But, the most inspired sequence of the film comes late in the movie when the defense gets wind of the prosecution’s plan to play a recording from the night of the riots where the prim and proper Tom Hayden can be (arguably) heard urging hundreds of listeners to “let blood flow all over the city.” Tom still believes that he would do well on the witness stand, but his defense lawyer (Mark Rylance as William Kuntsler) insists on showing him why this would be a bad idea. The ensuing scene sees Rylance role play the part of the prosecution cross-examining Hayden while the film intercuts scenes of a flashback of the actual events. the “truth” of that night, significantly muddies the water for this case. It by no means proves that the Chicago 7 are guilty of a conspiracy, but it certainly highlights the more human aspect of their situation. How is one expected to keep their calm when their best friend is beaten? And to what degree are people to be held responsible for decisions made in the heat of the moment?

The movie also has also interesting commentary on who should be the “face” or progressive politics, even today: the well-to-do and respectable Hayden or the in-your-face hippie comedian Hoffman? It’s an interesting question that never seems fully explored or resolved. Sorkin seems to land in the camp that Hayden’s respectability merely maintains status quo whereas Hoffman’s flagrant anti-establishment views is required for real change. But I don’t know how much of that is me just loving Cohen’s performance as Hoffman and finding Redmayne’s Hayden to be (appropriately) insufferably pretentious. Sorkin certainly gives Cohen the better lines.

Overall, this is a movie held up by its two primary strengths: its cast and its film structure. Aside from general inconsistencies of the script’s tone and the notable weakness I mentioned previously about overplaying the political motivation for the trial in the film's first 5 minutes, the film is nearly perfectly structured. We are sort of dropped in medias res into the trial and only get the facts of those few days shown to us in carefully placed flashbacks that help to flesh out the drama of the trial. It helps maintain pacing in what could have been a drag of a legal drama. 

But really, it’s the cast and their performances that sell this movie. Sacha Baron Cohen is the star in my mind, so perfectly cast as Abbie Hoffman, but Frank Langella as the septuagenarian, prejudiced judge of the case is equally powerful. Yahya Abdul-Manteen II as the Black Panther Bobby Seale lends an air of desperate seriousness to the film, Eddie Redmayne shines as that white liberal dude who takes himself way too seriously, and Mark Rylance is wonderful as the courageous lead defense attorney, particularly in scenes dealing with Bobby Seale. While the whole trial weighs on him heavily as the film progresses, his genuine concern for Seale is palpable.

I spent much of this review telling you the things that were odd about this film, and I stand by that. But as I said, those things stand out because this is such a slick production that the cracks become that much more obvious. It largely avoids Sorkin’s penchant for blunt lack of nuance and offers a story that helps to greatly contextualize the very world we live in. It’s interesting that a story that sees ten men (including their lawyers) fail to win a fight against The Man still feels like an inspiring underdog tale. It resonated well with this viewer, especially as the ending makes clear that justice is eventually served. Yet, I recognize this may be a dangerous tale to tell these days, and why I think the movie is so successful is that it gives plenty of sobering evidence to suggest that justice (both then and now) is by no means guaranteed.

***/ (Three and a half out of four stars)

[spicycreativity]

Soft-Shoe Shuffle - Ch 5

Chapter: 5/12 Additional Notes: See Ch 1 for more information. Read on AO3 under "WizardGlick." Any formatting/italics errors are holdovers from AO3 that I was too lazy to fix. Chapter Content Warnings: N/A; ask to tag Excerpt: Janus slid a few inches down in the chair, feeling as wrung-out as he did when he used to stay up all night braiding and weaving his influence into Thomas’ thought patterns. “I certainly won’t hold this over your head. Figuratively.” He slid down a few more inches. “If you want to avoid falling out of the chair, I suggest you put the footrest out,” Logan said. “The handle is on the left side.” “Yes, because I’ve never sat in a recliner before,” Janus muttered, balancing his weight on his heels so he didn’t slide out of the chair. Note: The cake is a lie metaphor

It's my job to be cleaning up this mess And that's enough reason to go for me It's my job to be better than the rest And that makes a day for me

Janus awoke to the sensation of something poking the underside of his wrist and a deep conviction that it was going to be one of those days. Mild pain in his wrist aside (what was that?), a sticky sense of malaise clung to his skin like saltwater and pressed into him harder than his blankets ever could.

Janus opened his eyes. Remus had evidently tucked him in, because he was under his blankets with his arms crossed over his chest like a corpse. He was still wearing the onesie and his gloves, and his hat rested on the nightstand beside him. Janus examined his right wrist and found that Remus had slipped a folded piece of paper into his glove, the corner of which was poking Janus in the wrist.

Adjusting his pillows as he went, Janus sat up and pulled the paper out of the glove.

There once was a Snake with a fast wit

Who fell for a Side with dad habits

Poor Janus was sprung

And hoped Patton was hung

So they could make love like two rabbits

"I'm going to kill him," Janus said evenly. He kept his wits about him when disposing of this new poem, merely flicking his wrist and sending it up like flash paper. It disappeared in one satisfying flare of white.

Janus nodded once and hauled himself out of bed. He didn't like that he'd fallen asleep in the common room not once, but twice now. It wasn't his style. He was the puppetmaster, the Lord of the Lies, the doorkeeper who dressed like an 1870s oil baron and took his coffee black like his soul. He didn't fall asleep on the couch.

At least it had been Remus to take him to bed. Janus wasn't sure what he'd do if he woke up in Patton's arms.

It didn't matter. Janus could rehabilitate his reputation today while he lounged around until he felt better. First of all, he had to get this accursed parrot onesie off.

As much as it pained him, he changed right back into his usual outfit. The stiff starched cotton was never the most comfortable even on the best of days, but today it chafed irritably against his skin.

He would have preferred a nice set of fleece-lined pajamas, but his fragile pride simply wouldn't let him go out like that. Not when he had already displayed such weakness in front of the others.

He slunk out of his bedroom and down the hallway in stocking feet, walking toe-heel to muffle the sound of his footsteps.

Logan gave him a curt nod from the couch as he passed; Janus tipped his hat in reply.

He passed the dining room table and rounded the corner into the kitchen. He had been aiming for the coffee pot, but stopped short at the sight of Patton seated on the floor with his legs pulled up to his chest and his forehead resting on his knees. It was the same position he had been in the night Janus found him in front of his door, and it made Janus go hot with worry.

Janus stared. Patton's shoulders rose and fell with his breathing, slow and even. He wasn't crying, then. Janus coughed into his fist.

Patton looked up at him with red-rimmed eyes. "Oh, hey, Janus," he said like it was the most normal thing in the world for him to curl up on the kitchen floor on the verge of tears.

"Good morning," Janus said, going for the coffee maker for the sake of having something to do with his hands. "Please try to convince me you aren't upset about anything."

"It's nothing," Patton said.

Janus was more than content to leave it at that, since he didn't care about Patton's feelings. He poured ground coffee into the filter and shoved it into place with a little more force than was strictly necessary. His eyes fell on Patton when he turned to fill the coffee pot at the sink. Patton, with his shining eyes and quivering lip.

Fuck.

Janus poured the water from the coffee pot into the reservoir, slid the coffee pot into place, gently pressed the button. He stared at the coffee maker until the first drops fell into the coffee pot, tugging at the fingertips of his gloves. It would be so easy to just turn around and go back to the living room. He could even drop a hint and send Logan in. So why couldn't Janus move?

Oh, he knew why.

He set his jaw and turned around, staring down at Patton. "I'm great at consoling people," he said in a voice that came out wrong, all accusatory and angry.

"You don't have to," Patton said, not meeting his gaze. "It's not your job."

"No, I-- That's not what--" Excellent. Janus just loved getting tongue-tied like some flustered adolescent would-be Romeo. Good thing he wasn't defined by his silver tongue. "Feel free to jump in here."

"I don't want to tell you," Patton said in a low voice. "I don't want to make it your problem."

"Like I won't get it out of you one way or another." Janus sat down and crossed his legs, the better to look Patton in the eye without looming over him. Behind him, the coffee maker hissed and gurgled.

"I miss Roman and Virgil, that's all. I'm worried about them."

"I'm sorry I asked."

It was meant to be a joke, but Patton only looked more anguished. "I'm sorry! It's not your job to-- I don't want to make you feel like I blame you for what happened…"

Janus braced himself. "But…?"

"But nothing," Patton said. "I'm sorry; I know I'm being silly."

Ugh. Janus remembered the stab of guilt that had struck him when he'd realized that he might have hurt Remus. How panicked he felt at the idea that Remus might be angry with him. The fear in knowing that Remus' anger would be justified. A nauseating wave of empathy hit Janus with the force of a speeding semi-truck striking a pixelated frog. "Patton, you don't blame yourself do you?"

"I don't know." Patton's voice nearly cracked. He swallowed hard and looked, beseeching, at Janus. "I'm the one who… You know." He waved a hand, presumably to indicate 'morphed into a giant frog-man and tried to kill Thomas and his friends.'

Janus stood at a crossroads. Telling Patton it wasn't his fault would be tantamount to admitting his own guilt.

And hadn't he pushed Patton to the breaking point? Hadn't he aligned the pieces on the chess board? Hadn't he-- His head spun and his stomach dropped. Hadn't he puppeted Roman on his makeshift stage and cast him aside when he was no longer needed? Hadn't he?

But then again. Hadn't it been worth it? Janus would take all the turmoil of the past few days a thousand times over if it meant Thomas would listen to him . Janus had done what he'd had to do, and it had been a net gain for him.

Janus stood at a crossroads, and he walked straight between them, kicking up dust and rocks beneath his feet.

"It was an accident," he said to Patton. "Sometimes, things just happen and it's nobody's fault."

"I guess," Patton said, though he didn't look all that convinced. "You're probably right. You're usually right. You're really smart, Janus."

Janus waited for the other shoe to drop: some insult about his character or choices, but nothing came. Patton tilted his head. "Thank you," Janus choked.

He stood and wheeled around to face the coffee maker but nearly lost his balance and had to clutch the countertop for support. He would keep it to one cup of coffee today and spend the rest of the day hydrating and, more importantly, not having hard emotional conversations with people who made him want to re-examine his entire moral compass.

Not that Patton made him-- Oh, who was Janus kidding? Janus would walk one thousand miles through the desert on his knees if Patton asked him to.

So long as he could complain about it the whole time.

"I'm waffle-y sorry for being such a downer," Patton said. "Want me to make you breakfast?"

Janus stared at the drip-drip of the coffee as it fell into the pot. "Why do you do that?"

"Why do I do what?"

"Cook. It seems like a lot of work when you could just…" Janus snapped his fingers.

Patton either chose not to point out Janus' hypocrisy in brewing coffee or, more likely, didn't think to mention it. "Well, honestly, I like the work," he said. "It feels personal and… Well, it feels like love ."

Janus swallowed hard. "Oh," was all he could think to say. He stared at his warped reflection in the half-filled coffee pot.

"So," Patton said. "Can I make you breakfast?"

Janus lurched forward, putting more of his weight into his hands where they connected with the edge of the counter, and let his head hang. What was wrong with him? Words circled his head in a whirlwind and evaded all his attempts to string them together into complete thoughts.

“Janus?” Patton prompted. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine ,” Janus snapped, acting on pure instinct.  He turned around and forced himself to look Patton in the eye. “Sorry.” The word felt foreign and uncomfortable in his dry mouth. “Yes, Patton. I would appreciate it very much if you made me breakfast.”

Patton took this behavioral change in stride, perhaps even with a knowing look in his eye. Janus realized with a creeping sense of unease that Virgil had probably been equally skittish when he’d made the move from Dark to Light. But Patton didn’t comment on Janus' disgusting predictability. He only smiled and said, “Great! Do you like blueberry pancakes?”

Janus didn’t, not really, nor was he particularly hungry. Janus said, “Yes” and forced himself to smile.

“Perfect." Patton half-turned away before turning back to Janus. “Oh, yeah! Logan said he had something he wanted to ask you.”

Janus manifested a coffee mug onto the counter (the same black and yellow ouroboros one that Patton had visualized for him) and reached for the coffee pot. “Trying to get rid of me?”

“No!” Patton yelped. “I’d actually really like it if you stayed in here with me. Not that I can’t be alone with my thoughts! Because I can and I’m fine. But you’re still kind of an unknown and that scares me and I’d like to get to know you better-- Oh, gosh, um, not that you scare me! I don’t think you’re scary. Unless you want me to think you’re scary? I know Virgil kind of had a whole complex about that. N-not that I think you and Virgil are necessarily anything alike!”

Someday, Janus was going to let Patton keep going just to see how deep he would dig himself. But today was not that day. Today, Janus wanted to sit down and take care of this exhaustion before it turned into something worse. “Patton, relax.”

“I’m relaxed!” Patton said, his shoulders hiked up nearly to his ears.

“I was just teasing you.”

“I knew that.” Patton flushed and pushed his glasses up. “Forget I said anything, okay?”

“Already forgotten.” Janus smiled, actually smiled to reassure Patton that he wasn’t angry. Because he didn’t want Patton to be scared of him. Pain bored into the back of Janus’ skull like a railroad spike propelled by dynamite. Two aspirin jumped into his hand before he even realized he had summoned then. He swallowed them with a mouthful of piping hot coffee and only just managed not to cough.

“You okay?” Patton asked.

A thousand sarcastic misdirections died on Janus’ lips. “Just a headache.”

Patton nodded.

For a moment, they stared at each other with eyes locked. It was Janus who turned away, covering his face under the pretense of swiping his hair out of his eyes. “I’d better go see what Logan wants.”

He fled the warmth and earnestness of Patton’s presence and the trenchant blade of his own desire. When he reached the living room, he forced himself to calm down and took a seat in one of the recliners that stood perpendicular to the couch so he could face Logan. “You had a question for me?”

Logan vanished the book he was reading before Janus could get a good look at the cover. Damn, that could have provided useful insight into Logan's interests. “More of a request for information, to be perfectly clear," Logan said. "I’m interested in Remus.”

“Well,” Janus said, seizing the opportunity for a bit of fun, “I’m not so sure he feels the same way about you, but I suppose I could make an inquiry.”

Logan kept his face blank but Janus could tell from the way his irises twitched and his cheeks darkened that he had understood the joke and was choosing not to acknowledge it. “I’m sorry; I should have been more clear. What I meant is that I am interested to know more about Remus as an individual. A ‘person,’ if you will.”

“I will.” Logan raised an eyebrow and drew the corners of his mouth down in an expression of tense irritation. “You don’t like being teased,” Janus said out loud.

“I don’t find it conducive to productive conversation, no.”

“Well, far be it from me to want to impede scientific advancement.” Janus touched his fingertips to his chest. “Did you have any specific questions about Remus?”

“Yes.” Logan leaned in, a new spark in his eyes. “I was curious about his behavior last night. He was only interested in staying when he felt that he wasn’t wanted-- When he was considered ‘intrusive.”

“Yes.”

“Is that behavior inherent or learned?”

Janus thought for a moment. Logan didn’t like sarcasm. He didn’t want to be teased. So Janus steeled himself and told the truth. “I don’t think it’s my place to tell you.”

Logan nodded, head bowed in disappointment. “I had feared you might say that. In that case, Janus, I have a favor to ask of you.”

Janus tried not to wince. He was tired. He really wasn’t in the mood to navigate the potential minefield of Remus as a topic of conversation. On the other hand, he could use all the favor he could get for the inevitable moment that Roman and Virgil emerged and protested his newfound position in the Light. Logan could be a strong ally in that conflict. “Oh? Let’s hear it.” He settled back in his chair and stared at Logan over the top of his coffee mug. At least the headache had receded a little, now only flaring up when he turned his head too fast.

“I am more than happy to speak to Remus directly. In fact, I would prefer it. However, last night demonstrated that Remus is unwilling to engage in social situations where his presence is desired. His rapport with you suggested that this may not always be the case. So I drew the tentative conclusion that you may be able to act as liaison between Remus and me until he feels comfortable conversing with me directly, assuming that time does come. If he really doesn’t want to talk to me, I won’t force the matter.”

Janus took what Logan had said and distilled it to its core: “You want me to arrange a meeting between you and Remus.”

“Yes. Please.”

“Anytime soon?”

“Logically speaking, there’s no hurry,” Logan said, his face neutral. Too neutral.

Janus considered this. “You’re excited,” he said, a smile growing on his face. Ugh, he was excited that Logan was excited. Since when did he care about Logan’s personal growth?

Logan swallowed hard, the line of his jaw sharp and tense. “...Yes,” he said finally. “I am excited. And I don’t wish to impose, but I would prefer you spoke to him sooner rather than later.”

Really, what Janus said next was selfish. “I’ll talk to him today.” It was selfish because it was for his own benefit. Really. If he was responsive to Logan’s desires then Logan would view him in a more favorable light and be more likely to defend him against Roman and Virgil when the time came. That was all. Janus didn’t care about the happiness of pawns and puppets.

Yet still his chest filled with inexplicable warmth and light when Logan smiled (yes, smiled) and said, “Thank you, Janus.”

Janus slid a few inches down in the chair, feeling as wrung-out as he did when he used to stay up all night braiding and weaving his influence into Thomas’ thought patterns. “I certainly won’t hold this over your head. Figuratively.” He slid down a few more inches.

“If you want to avoid falling out of the chair, I suggest you put the footrest out,” Logan said. “The handle is on the left side.”

“Yes, because I’ve never sat in a recliner before,” Janus muttered, balancing his weight on his heels so he didn’t slide out of the chair.

Logan stared at him, eyes calculating. “You may do yourself harm if you hold that position for very long. Ergonomically speaking, the best position for optimal back health is reclining.”

“If you’re going to insist…” Janus scooted back up and pulled the handle, holding up his coffee so it didn’t spill as the chair shifted.

Logan tilted his head. “I wasn’t insisting. I gave you information so you could make an informed decision about how you wanted to sit.”

“...Thanks.” Janus took a long drink of coffee, thought for a moment, and manifested a book that he thought might catch Logan’s attention. He made a show of finding his place in it, and sure enough, Logan shifted like he wanted to say something. Janus looked at him over the top of the gilded hardback copy of Thus Spoke Zarathustra; the most audacious thing he could think of in the moment. He had to balance it with one hand, as the other was still holding his coffee mug, and the spine dug painfully into his leg. He looked at Logan and raised his eyebrows in expectation.

Logan shook his head to indicate he had nothing to say. He summoned his own book, the one he had been reading earlier and, with a look of faux innocence that ill-suited him, turned the cover toward Janus just long enough for him to observe that it was an old chemistry textbook before laying it open on his lap.

Janus sniffed and turned the page in Thus Spoke Zarathustra , not at all embarrassed at having been caught out.

--

Breakfast meant facing Patton again, which meant dizzy butterflies in Janus' stomach. At least Logan was there, and his presence helped mitigate whatever sinister magic powers Patton had that made Janus go all warm and soft and giddy in his presence.

Janus cut his pancakes into smaller and smaller pieces and drank orange juice like his life depended on it while Patton and Logan revisited an old argument about whether Thomas should adopt a puppy (or several).

They left Janus out of it, which he appreciated for once. Today, he was more than happy to half-listen and dismember his pancakes. It was easier to eat when Patton wasn’t paying attention to him, anyway; the nervous nausea receded like the tide in the absence of the moon of Patton’s focus.

When Janus had downed his fourth glass of orange juice and realized he was bored, he forced himself to tune into Patton and Logan’s argument so he could find a place to strike and excuse himself. There were other, more aggressive ways to command attention, but he wasn’t in the mood to raise his voice or ‘accidentally’ drop his fork, so he waited with his hands folded in his lap.

And waited.

And waited.

Finally, he abandoned propriety and interrupted. “Do you plan to finish anytime soon or do you intend to hold me hostage here all morning?”

“Oh, sorry, champ.” Patton turned to him, eyes wide and beseeching. “We usually all just talk over each other.”

"Oh, please do call me that again."

"You don't like it?"

"No, I love it. Can't you tell?"

"Sorry, Janus." Patton smiled. "Don't worry, though! I'll find a nickname you like."

"Anything's better than 'reptilian rapscallion,' I guess," Janus muttered. "Anyway. I have business to attend to."

"Okay!" Patton said cheerily. "But one of these days it's gonna be your turn to wash the dishes!"

Janus tipped his hat and sank out. They could have that argument another day.

He found Remus in the living room making a Jenga tower out of chicken bones.

"Business or pleasure?" Janus asked, trying not to sway into the coffee table. It was hard to tell with Remus.

"You drunk?" Remus asked, placing another chicken bone on the tower.

"Hammered," Janus said. He perched himself gingerly on the arm of the couch, though what he really wanted was to collapse with his head in Remus' lap. In any case, a little flattery was in order. "I got your limerick."

"And?"

"It was horrifying, thank you. I burned it."

Remus nodded his approval. "So did you miss me or what?"

"I need a favor."

"From me?" Remus puffed out his cheeks. "Who pissed you off? I haven't heard Roman's dulcet declarations from yonder curtain yet."

"I thought we'd moved past Shakespearean sonnets."

"Sorry, Snakespeare." Remus shrugged. "Some habits are hard to break."

"Mmph." Janus rested his elbow on his knee and his forehead in his palm. He just had to finish up here and then he could have the rest of the day off.

"Sooo who do I need to threaten and/or maim?" Remus asked.

Janus squeezed his eyes shut. "Actually, there's no violence involved. It's a real favor, Remus."

"Well, now you have my attention." Remus shifted on the couch, the beads of his shirt rattling. "Are you dying? You have to tell me if you're dying. And let me watch. And dissect your body. And use your skull as a goblet. Ooh, and--"

"I'm tired." Janus lifted his head and came nose-to-nose with Remus, who was peering at him with his eyes opened as wide as they could go. "And I need you to talk to Logan."

"Oh, yeah? Ol' Tight Ass getting on your nerves? Need me to scare him a little?"

Janus pressed his forehead into Remus'. "No."

"Ooh, you're warm."

Janus tugged at his collar. "It's not like I'm wearing layers or anything."

"So why do I have to hang out with All Time Lo?"

Janus usually cloaked his dealings with Remus in a few layers of reverse psychology and the occasional double entendre for good measure. Today, he just said, "Please."

Remus frowned and drew back. "You're sure you're not dying? Pope John Patton III isn't slowly poisoning you, is he?"

"He doesn't have the guts," Janus said. Remus' eyes lit up so he quickly added, "And I don't want to see yours."

"Aww."

"And if you really want to know… Logan wants to talk to you. As a person."

"And what does this have to do with you?"

Janus sighed and finally gave into his desire to flop over onto the couch. He ended up splayed over Remus' lap with his limbs twisted at uncomfortable angles, but couldn't be bothered to right himself. "Logan asked me to ask you because he rightfully guessed that you wouldn't respond to a direct invitation because you have a complex about showing up where you're not wanted unless I'm involved."

"And you said yes because …?"

"You're right, it's not like me at all to want to have something over someone else." No use showing his whole hand unless he absolutely had to.

"Do you like it over there?' Remus asked. "Is it better than…" He waved his hands.

If Janus owed any side honesty, it was Remus. So he sighed and made an effort to speak plainly; no filibusters about the subjective nature of 'better' and 'worse,' no cryptic half-answers. "I want it for you, Remus. It's tense and it's uncomfortable, but this half-acceptance feels more like home than you could ever conceive of from the shadows. It is better. But it won't be enough until you're there, too."

"Jesus, Janus." Remus fake-gagged a few times. "They're turning you into one softboiled snake." But he shifted and gently arranged Janus' head in his lap, placing Janus' hat on his own head. He ran his fingers through Janus' hair and smoothed his bangs out of his face. Like Janus, Remus preferred to disguise his intentions, usually with irony and shock value. They understood each other in that regard. But now, Remus spoke in calmer tones, and lowered his voice. "Hey, Janus?"

"Yes?"

"If you really do have a thing for Patton--"

"I don't--"

"If you did. I really do hope it works out for you. And I know… There's a change involved with crossing over--"

"I won't--"

Remus placed his hand over Janus' mouth. "I just hope it works out for you, that's all. And I'll talk to Logan. Since you asked."

Janus knew better than to lick Remus' hand. Instead, he kissed it.

"Ew!" Remus yanked his hand back and made a show of wiping it off on his pants. "Save your love and affection for the Guilt Trip Tour Guide." He grabbed Janus by the shoulders and sat him up, placing his hat back on his head. "Now where's Logan?"

"You're doing it now?" Janus coated his disappointment in a veneer of skepticism; he could have easily fallen asleep in Remus' lap if Remus had held still for a few minutes longer.

"Might as well rip the Band-Aid off," Remus said. "And a few layers of skin, too. Did you know that your top layer of skin is called the horny layer?"

"Charming," Janus said.

"I aim to please," Remus said. He stood and did a little shimmy.

"Guaranteed to satisfy," Janus agreed.

Remus sank out, leaving Janus alone on the couch. He forced himself to get up before he fell asleep, and walked over to the curtain to listen for a few seconds. There was no sound of screaming, no sound of Remus cackling in fiendish delight, so Janus had to assume that everything was going smoothly.

He sank out and chose to manifest back in the Light Sides' living room. Now he could relax, because he certainly wasn't worried about how Remus' interaction with Logan would go.

"Hi, Janus!" Patton said, springing up from the floor.

If Janus had been startled by this, he would have jumped and gasped, but since he wasn't, he remained still. His heart rattled against his ribcage until he could feel it in his stomach. He took in a breath so deep it made his lungs ache and sat down on the couch. "Patton."

"What are you up to?"

"...Training for the Olympic canoe slalom."

Patton blinked. "So you have time to talk?"

"I suppose…" Janus said, trying to telegraph his irritation without making Patton think that Janus was mad at him. It was a delicate operation, and Janus must have erred too far on the side of caution, because Patton's smile never faltered for a moment. "Great."

He sat down next to Janus, and the inches between their bodies pierced Janus' heart like a deadly insult. But he knew better than anyone that it took more than desire to breach a gap. "I hope I'm not in trouble."

"Of course not!" Patton said. "I'm not-- I mean, I don't think I-- Oh. You're teasing."

"Good of you to notice."

"Um, anyway. I wanted to, um… I wanted…"

"Take your time. I've got all day." Though he played it off as such, the yawn that Janus stifled behind his hand wasn't fake.

"I want to talk about philosophy with you!" Patton said all in one breath.

"Oh," Janus said. He studied the back of one gloved hand. "Are you sure that's a good idea?"

"We can start small."

"I take it you had something in mind?"

Patton nodded vigorously. "Ends and means."

Janus swallowed. "Well," he said, feeling for all the world like he had just walked into a trap. "By all means, start us off."

"Um," said Patton. "Well. Um." He cleared his throat. "Ah."

"Fascinating. Go on?"

"I'm trying to think of an example that doesn't involve," Patton dropped his voice to a whisper, "murder."

"That's probably a good idea."

"Okay, I don't know, let's say I had this really awesome recipe for strawberry shortcake. And, uh, Logan was trying to make one from scratch for Ro-- For your birthday."

"Mmhm." Janus raised the corners of his lips in what was supposed to be an encouraging smile while he feverishly tried to figure out where Patton was going with this. Preferably before Patton got there, so he could steer the conversation as needed.

"And say Logan was making a real mess of it, and I knew you would be disappointed to receive a not-so-good cake for your birthday. So I go into the kitchen and try to nicely hint that Logan should use my recipe, but he's not having it. Now, I really want you to have a nice birthday cake, so I finally snap and tell Logan that he's no good at baking and he needs to listen to me. And he gets upset and doesn't come to your birthday party, but I make you an awesome strawberry shortcake and you really enjoy it. And all the guests have a wonderful time, even though a few of them really miss Logan and wish he was there."

"Ah, yes," said Janus. "Rousseau's famous strawberry shortcake thought experiment." He rubbed his thumb across his temple a few times. The sooner he helped Patton get to his point, the sooner he could finally relax. "What's the question?"

"Since everybody at the party was happy, including you, the birthday boy, did the ends justify the means?"

Janus squinted, but Patton's face was the very picture of innocence. "It's Logan's fault," he said slowly, "for letting his emotions cloud the bigger picture. If he had just listened to you in the first place , no one would be upset."

"So the ends justified the means because the result was good?"

"Sure. You knew that your plan was the better one."

"So you could say that I was entitled to behave in a way that hurt Logan? Because I knew better than he did?"

"That's what I said," Janus snapped. He took a deep breath through his nose. Patton was behaving with picture-perfect decorum, so Janus had no need to lash out like a cornered animal. "I'm saying Logan shouldn't be hurt. He should think for 3 seconds and realize that he was standing in the way of the greater good."

"But he is hurt," Patton said. "I hurt him. There's no 'should' about it."

"What do you think, then?"

"Obviously I think I should apologize to Logan!" Patton said. "I had no right to hurt him like that."

"So you don't think there's any end result that would have justified those means."

"That's right," Patton said, nodding so hard that his glasses slid to the tip of his nose. "Being mean is a bad means. And maybe someone smarter than me has already said it in better words, but I don't think anyone has the right to hurt another person, no matter what the end goal is. Um, e-especially over something as small as cake."

Janus' first choice of response to this was a new thought experiment involving murder. But that felt a little mean-spirited, even for him and oh, the ends of winning a debate against Patton wouldn't have justified the means of playing dirty to do so. Janus buried his face in his hands. "What if you didn't care about Logan?" he murmured into his gloved palms. Pain pulsed through his head.

"What?" Patton said.

Janus moved his hands so only his mouth was uncovered. "What if you didn't care about Logan? What if you thought he was a pompous ass whose only relevance to you was as an obstacle between you and making a really awesome cake ?"

"My answer hasn't changed," Patton said. "And it's not going to."

"What if you explained yourself and Logan humiliated you in front of everyone ?" Janus used his fingertips to apply pressure to his browbone, but the pain only increased.

"His wrong wouldn't negate my wrong," Patton said gently. He rested his hand on Janus' knee.

Fireworks exploded behind Janus' eyelids. Why did it have to be Patton ? And why did Patton have to be right? He'd even gone to the trouble of presenting his point in Janus' preferred terms, even if his debate skills left something to be desired. "You can go ahead and give me the lecture if you want," Janus mumbled. Shame burned bright and hot inside him and flames danced along the seams of his clothing, pinpricks of irritation on his skin.

"Janus, look at me." Patton's thumb rubbed small circles on Janus' knee.

Janus dropped his hands. The light flashed into his eyes and made him flinch. "Go ahead."

"I don't want to lecture you," Patton said. "I mean, a part of me does. But I realize now that I can't just do that. The only authority I have over you is the authority you want to give me, and I have a feeling that's not much."

Janus scoffed. "You'd be surprised." He looked at Patton's hand and clenched his own into two fists. "I'll… I'll think about apologizing to Roman. I'm getting good at it, these days."

Patton jerked his head up and something seemed to click for him, an unasked question answered. "You apologized to Logan."

Janus nodded, but no happiness touched his heart at the look of approval in Patton's eyes. He just felt shaky and sick and very, very tired. "I didn't mean to, but…"

"You realized you'd hurt him?"

"It helps that he didn't mock me to my face." A particularly intense wave of pain flashed from the base of Janus' skull to his temples and he winced. On impulse, he dug his fingers into the side of his head just beneath the brim of his hat. It didn't help.

"Does your head still hurt?" Patton asked.

Janus nodded. No sense lying now, not about something as petty as this, and especially not now that Patton had a floodlight on him. If Janus was playing 4D chess, he was doing so on the 20 yard line of Patton's football field and he kept. getting. tackled. "It's getting worse."

"Do you usually get headaches like this?"

"No."

"Well," Patton patted Janus' knee and withdrew his hand. "It's been a stressful few days."

Janus blinked, staring at the spot where Patton's hand had been. His thoughts came slow and syrupy.

"Patton?"

"Yeah?"

Janus struggled to keep his eyes open. The gentle honey-toned lights of the living room might as well have been high wattage LEDs beamed straight into his retinas. He blinked away tears. "I'm sorry." Patton gave him a sad smile. Janus continued, brushing away a tear that clung stubbornly to his upper lashes. "I pushed you to your breaking point on purpose. I used you. I-- I tried to push you down for the sake of pulling myself up." Pain flashed through his head and he squeezed his eyes shut against it. "I don't even know if I'm doing this right," he admitted. "I'm sorry I hurt you, but… Hurting you got me what I wanted."

"Hey, kid-- Janus, I think you'd better call it a day," Patton said. There was a nervous edge to his voice that Janus didn't have the mental bandwidth to try to decipher. "Try to sleep off that headache, okay? We can talk about this later."

The pain was so all-consuming, so violent in its demands for Janus' full attention that he wasn't even capable of defending his pride. A vague, hollow shame made its home in his chest. He stood, joints protesting, but Patton stopped him before he could sink out.

"You don't have to go."

Janus nodded and sank back down onto the couch, slowly, so Patton had time to stand up and get out of his way. It made sense. It wasn't like Patton was going to stroke his hair and share his warmth just because Janus wanted it.

Even if he asked.

Patton said something that Janus didn't quite make out before he slipped into unawareness.

[ariainstars]

Ben Solo - A Sad Star Wars Story

Warning: longer post. (And possibly, a few unpopular opinions.)

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

For a start: I’m not here to say I like how the sequels ended with Episode IX, in particular the way they handled their protagonist.

It sucked, to say the least.

I am writing this because looking back now, I can hardly imagine how the authors could have wrapped up the sequel trilogy with the happy ending we expected.

Let’s start with that word: happy. Honestly, did anyone want Ben to be “happy” with what Rey has become? I did expect her to fall down the rabbit hole. We repeatedly have witnessed how aggressive and judgmental she is; and by all logic, she had to meet her own Dark Side in order to realize that she has no right to judge the man she first knew as Kylo Ren. The moment I heard Palpatine’s evil laugh in the first trailer, I figured he had come to pursue Rey, not him. Unfortunately, her moment of shock was short and she hardly learned from it; if anything, since Luke sent her right back into the battle. This scene may have been what fanbros expected from Luke, but honestly, it was ridiculous. It did not fit to The Last Jedi’s Luke and it did not do Rey any favor.

And: had Ben emerged victoriously, found his happy ending, how would the title “The Rise of Skywalker” be justified? He is a Skywalker by blood, but in fact he is a Solo.

  Wrapping Up the Saga

The sequels were received with mixed feelings from the start. Fans of old were angry at The Force Awakens since it seemed to say that history was repeating itself; that the heroes or the original trilogy had brought down the Empire but not managed to preserve peace. We saw them separated from one another as they once had been, disillusioned and worn out. Not the mention the wasp’s nest that was raised by The Last Jedi! If the Prequel Trilogy dismantled the illusion that the Jedi were perfect, the Sequel Trilogy definitively does the same with the Skywalker family. Both messages are clear for everyone to see, provided one is ready and willing to see them.

If Star Wars is a tale with a moral - and given its approach and the fact that it was handed over by Lucas to Disney of all studios it is - then the authors are trying since the 80ies to teach our minds to a compassionate approach on both villains and heroes. One of the main reasons why many fans dislike the prequels is that they expected to see the Jedi and Anakin / Vader being cool; they felt let down by witnessing the Jedi’s narrow-mindedness and Anakin’s strong emotionality. The affronted reactions to The Last Jedi were on the same line of thought. The prequels showed that the Jedi were not the good guys, and for the observant viewer this is already clear enough in the original trilogy. But it was only with The Last Jedi that the elephant in the room was finally approached.

Through Rey, The Rise of Skywalker makes clear that wanting to be a Jedi does not entail actual heroism but the conviction of being a hero. And Rey’s dyad in the Force, the tragic figure of Ben Solo, warns about the dangers coming from a child and teenager no one believed in as a person because everybody only saw his powerful potential.

The Jedi’s Failure

Neither Luke nor Anakin nor Rey needed the Jedi in order to become heroes. They already were good-hearted, brave and idealistic when we first met them. The Jedi ways did not make any of them happy; they learned to use their powers and employed them for short-lived “victories”, but they never found lasting peace.

Not a few fans have wondered how Luke Skywalker, who believed in his father despite all, could give up on his nephew that fatal night (even if it was only a moment of panic). Simply put: as strong and mature as he is by the time of Return of the Jedi, Luke suffers from a father trauma, and he desperately wishes for Vader to become Anakin again, his father, who used to be a hero. When he asks Vader to leave and come with him, it is not out of pure idealism but also a personal request. But Luke did not need his nephew. The moment he had at the temple was a personal issue, it had little to do with Ben’s strength in the Force or his status as Luke’s model student: Luke was afraid that Ben would be the end of everything he loved. Luke, Leia and Han were thrown together by a trauma bonding; Ben had no place with them because he hadn’t been through the same.

The actual tragedy in Ben Solo’s life was the bitter realization, over and over, that he was not needed by anyone (except for being abused, e.g. by Snoke). Ben desired Rey even before he had met her because she was powerful but unexperienced, and he hoped to find sense and belonging by protecting and instructing her. No wonder Rey’s rejection in the Throne Room drove him out of his mind with rage: it was another confirmation of what he had experienced all his life - that people can do without him. So he decided, bitterly and sullenly, that he could do without others as well. But over and over, he had to realize that he could not escape his want for connection. He kept hunting for Rey; and he was very conflicted both when it came to his father and his uncle, letting on that he did have an emotional connection with both of them although he didn’t want to accept it.

Ben’s tragedy was that he did not want to be special at all, and that contrarily to his uncle and grandfather he was aware of it. Ben simply wanted to belong somewhere.

It is an intrinsic part of the saga that a hero is never a hero “because he is superior to others for… reasons”: Star Wars does not bow to that cliché. Some people are born with the capacity to tap into the Force, but not all of the saga’s heroes have it. The morally good qualities a person has, the right decisions they make are not inborn but passed on, learned, communicated. In A New Hope Luke was saved by Han, to whom he had offered companionship and set an example by trying to save Leia. In Return of the Jedi Vader was won over by his son’s loyalty and sacrifice. For an average action film hero, this kind of attitude or outcome of his adventures would be unacceptable: a hero is expected to be triumphant, not saved by someone else. And I know enough fans who don’t understand Luke and prefer Han or Vader to him, who are both cooler and more predictable.

In film, where characters need to be introduced to the audience within the scope of minutes, narratives are applied in a way that the general audience gets them quickly. The downside is that this goes at the expense of nuances. Fans don’t like to see Anakin being passionate and stormy because as Darth Vader he was coded as brutal but cool; they don’t get Obi-Wan’s many mistakes because he was coded as a hero, or Yoda’s arrogance due to his status as a wise old mentor. The sequels brought this dichotomy to a new level coding Rey as the heroine although she has a bad attitude and comes from bad blood, and Ben Solo as the villain when his attitude is conflicted at worst, and who is the offspring of the original story’s heroes. The difference lies in their intentions - hers are good, his are bad. This is interesting because it makes us, the audience, question ourselves as to how and why we believe we can tell good from evil.

You could probably say into a megaphone that the Jedi are not the good guys who always win, that the Force is not a superpower belonging only to the Jedi and that there is no simple Dark and Light but that the Force needs balance: some viewers will never get it. I guess everybody feels the saga’s subtext on a subconscious level; but woe betide if someone like Rian Johnson brings it up to the surface for everyone to see.

  Narrative Key

One of the main reasons why The Last Jedi is so divisive is, I think, that its major theme connecting all of the others is communication. While the prequels told much about miscommunication or lack thereof, Episode VIII is packed full of beautiful examples of what happens when people actually manage to communicate; and even when they do not, they learn from their misunderstanding one another (e.g. Poe with Admiral Holdo).

It is a common but major mistake not to question the narrative key to a story. Many Star Wars fans believe the story is simply about the good guys defeating the bad guys, so they overlook the deeper themes of the saga and respond with outrage when the authors try to humanize their heroes, bringing them down from their alleged pedestal. It is e.g. helpful to know Joseph Campbell’s monomyth theory; to consider that a film saga is not the same as a TV show and that therefore if the characters go through changes these must be significant from one instalment to the next due to the time limitations; to watch a few films by Akira Kurosawa, in particular The Hidden Fortress, to understand the significance of a major event seen through different eyes; or consider the prequels’ parallels with legends, classic literature, or the Bible - Lucifer’s fall, Romeo and Juliet, the tales of King Arthur. Star Wars is a conglomeration of many narratives, from Western films to the Japanese to French fairy tales to Greek mythology to Shakespearean drama. Who approaches these films expecting mere “action” is bound to be disappointed. It is understandable, however, that if you are used to certain kinds of stories, you will assume that every story should basically follow the same lines, and you will have difficulties accepting anything that is different, or believe it’s just badly made.

I still remember the (sometimes vicious) quarrels I followed in an online forum a few years ago about a Japanese mecha anime who some fans by hook or crook wanted to fit into the structure of a French novel. Of course, those two narratives don’t fit together: no wonder most of the other fans didn’t accept that kind of interpretation.

The Phantom of the Opera’s film version of 2004 was largely a failure both with regard to quality and audience appreciation because it made a tacky Byronic romance of a story that actually is a mystery thriller, probably expecting that it would be more appealing that way. What the filmmakers accomplished was making the story flat and the characters annoying by stripping them of the drama behind the original story.

Filming Rebecca’s film version from 1940 Hitchcock managed the transition excellently maintaining the storyline of the original novel; but Daphne duMaurier’s book is a coming-of-age story, and who expects a crime thriller may feel irritated by the narrators’ meandering and detailed inner monologue.

Game of Thrones also could not culminate in “all’s well that ends well”. The last season was not well-made, but I think now that was not the whole reason behind the audience’s disappointment. The show always was very crude and included loads of horrific events; even the worst victims of the war, who seemed to have a justification for their actions and seemed well-meaning, at times did terrible things. It would be a misfit to apply a happy ending to a “sex and violence” narrative as with another martial epic, like Aeneid and Iliad. Who waits for happy endings ought to avoid this kind of story from the start. (Yes, I know, I should listen to my own advice - had I imagined how depressing Rogue One is, Star Wars fan or not, I would probably have skipped it.)

Stories of this kind can be dissatisfying because as an audience, we follow our heroes’ adventures, sometimes for years, and we usually want to see them to find their happiness in the end. But in all honesty: we should have imagined.

That is why I think it was naïve to believe that the sequel trilogy would lead Ben to a happy ending with Rey. I have read more than one fanfiction which irritated me at first, until I realized that they were told on the lines of Fifty Shades of Grey, or Pride and Prejudice. That may work well for a fanfiction, but Star Wars is not a mere romance. Even if there was a hint of the overture to Romeo and Juliet during the abduction: couples based on that trope are not destined to end well. I myself was hoping for a happy ending due to the fact that the saga’s rights were in the hands of Disney of all production companies; and giving that the Skywalker family is one of the most famous in pop culture, I was certain they wouldn’t wipe them out. However I was not quite sure how they would do that and make it convincing, and I was wary when it came to the assumption (which many Reylo’s took for granted) that the love between Rey and Ben would be strong enough to save the galaxy and give them a happy ever after.

When a guy is introduced by murdering a defenseless old man, letting an entire village be wiped out with practiced ease, going on with torturing another guy both physically and mentally and climaxing with the horrible crime of patricide, one can hardly expect a happy ever after for him; even less since so very little was explained in terms of his childhood and adolescence. Some viewers identified with Ben Solo and saw his abandonment and abuse issues; many others didn’t, and none of the sequel films really thematized them. That he made peace with his parents and died to save the girl he loved is sufficient for a convincing redemption arc, not to offer him a happy closure.

  The Trope That Comes Closest

There were a lot of speculations with regard to the trope Ben (Kylo) and Rey were actually modelled on. Romeo and Juliet, Hades and Persephone, Pride and Prejudice or Beauty and the Beast, and there were probably more. Rian Johnson is known for loving The Phantom of the Opera more than any other musical. I don’t think that’s coincidental.

- The phantom is disfigured by birth, Ben is extremely powerful by birth; and Ben also gets disfigured by Rey during their duel. (Vader’s sunken, charred face under the mask was, for a long time, how I imagined the phantom unmasked by the way.) - The phantom is highly intelligent and has huge musical talent. Ben was born with a strong power in the Force. - Both wear masks and look much less threatening without them. They also wear a cloak, and black clothes. - The phantom had committed terrible crimes both to protect himself and to punish a world which would not accept him. Sounds familiar? - In the musical we do not get to know how he became a ruthless monster in the first place. Ditto. - The phantom dies (or disappears, in the musical) because only the girl knew that he was lonely and unhappy and that he still had goodness inside him. She had forgiven him, but the rest of the world wouldn’t have believed her or forgiven him.

Both Kylo Ren and the Phantom are creatures who are at the same time terrible and wonderful. The normal world, populated by average people, cannot accept them because they are both too fascinating and too terrifying. In order to find lasting fulfilment, Ben ought to have found back to humanness. The phantom couldn’t due to his disfigurement and his criminal past; and though Ben loses the scar on his face, the Cain’s mark of the patricide he committed, his deed and his former status as Supreme Leader of the First Order never would have been forgotten.

“Yet in his eyes all the sadness of the world Those pleading eyes that both threaten and adore…” Christine in The Phantom of the Opera (on the rooftop)

  Heroes: Dynamic and Static Characters

A general rule of storytelling is differentiating between dynamic and static (also called “impact”) characters. A static character is like an anchor for others: while they live through crises, learning and maturing, this character always remains his old self and always stands for the same values. He may be misunderstood, opposed and belittled, he may lose the battle, but never the war; and after having helped others through their troubles, he usually is on his own. (Cue: cowboy riding into the sunset.)

Superman stands for peace and justice, Jack Sparrow for freedom, Peter Pan for the innocence of childhood, Paddington for faith in people’s goodness. No wonder they are so popular: it is familiar and reassuring to follow the adventures of someone who is always like a rock in a storm. Static characters are in essence childlike, two-dimensional; which is probably why our child self easily gets attached to them and may be outraged at the idea of them changing, or maybe (gasp) being wrong about something.

But George Lucas developed his saga along the lines of personal growth, and by exploring its themes: thankfully, otherwise it would have become as boring and repetitive as so many other franchises. To continue a story you can either make it dynamic, or press the repeat button over and over. The Skywalker men with their strong emotionality may be unusual heroes, but much more interesting than other, “cooler” guys whose actions are more or less foreseeable. So, I can understand the Disney studio’s choices. On the other hand, it is not surprising when fans of old get angry when their supposedly unalterably perfect heroes make mistakes: everybody wants to know that some things (or persons) never change. Even if on the long run, change might be for the better.

I think one of the sequels’ most important messages was that the Skywalker-Organa-Solo family failed their heir precisely because their mindset did not change. Ben grew up in another world than they did; obsolete political structures, dictatorship or rebellions did not matter to him. But his family wanted him to adhere to the ideals that had gotten them through the war against the Empire, discouraging him from searching and finding his own place in the world, a world that now was very different both from the old Republic and the Empire.

Whether a static or dynamic character is more relatable to the audience is a personal matter. Many fans adore Darth Vader, Leia and Han Solo etc. precisely for the fact that basically they always remain their old selves. Padmé also is a favorite, probably due to the fact that she does not change considerably. Anakin changes a lot, which is perceived as a sign of weakness. Some fans may relate more to Luke, who undergoes serious trials and emerges from them stronger and wiser, far away from the greenhorn he was in A New Hope. And yet Luke’s final decision to throw his weapon away before Palpatine is often perceived as weird to this day. It’s not “heroic”.

The outraged fans who ranted at Luke’s portrayal in The Last Jedi did not realize that Luke was doing something both Obi-Wan and Yoda, or the other Jedi for that matter, never had done: he took responsibility for his actions. In this context Ben was the audience’s self-insert, he was as appalled at Luke’s misstep as we were. Such a blow is enough to send someone on a lonely island to meditate about his mistakes for years, convinced that the world is better without him.

But for the action film audience, that is not acceptable. If you have a light sabre and the Force (an alleged superpower), what do you need responsibility for? You can’t do wrong if you’re the hero, right? Luke also was the only character from the original trilogy who underwent character growth, which makes it all the more ironic that the many, many critics who tear the sequels to pieces are fuming at how Luke could be so “defiled”. Luke grew beyond the person he had been in A New Hope; these fans obviously did not. Which is why the studios thought they had to produce The Rise of Skywalker in order to “appease” them and to give them the Luke Skywalker they wanted.

  Where Does the Galaxy Go From Here?

A conversation between my husband and me, about a year before The Rise of Skywalker came out.

Me: “I hope Ben Solo will survive at the end of the trilogy.” Him: “I do hope that, too. But they won’t give him a happy ending.” Me: “Why?” Him: “He killed his own father.”

I hate to admit it, but he was right. I’m not aware what ethics code is under use in the film industry now, but in any case, the horrible crime of patricide was done; even if it was under coercion, the son traumatized by it, and it ultimately brought him back to redemption. You can’t make a patricide, the former right hand and for a time leader of a terrorist organization a hero and give him a happy ending; in particular when you are Disney of all film studios. (Not to mention that he killed Han Solo, a very popular character.) And from exchanges with other viewers I am aware that many do not understand how Ben killed Han under Snoke’s coercion, and the implications that led him to kill Snoke: they believe he simply did it because it’s something an evil, power-hungry person will do.

Ben dying without anyone knowing that he was not a villain at heart and worse, leaving the fates of the galaxy in the hands of a young woman whom we often saw giving in to evil influences again and again within the scope of minutes was a dangerous turn. If he was but “a child in a mask”, Rey is a child who believes to be a Jedi. How is Rey supposed to be a heroine, with the other half of her soul gone? She and Ben fitted together perfectly because she had the good intentions but a violent attitude, while his intentions were bad but his attitude desperately conflicted because inherently good. Rey came from evil blood but was kind-hearted because she believed in her parent’s love. Ben was the heir of a family of heroes but did not feel loved by them, which made him lonely and bitter. What good is Rey on her own, even more so when at the end of Episode IX she deliberately leaves her friends and goes to a literal desert? The little girl inside of her is still starving for connection, and neither being a Jedi nor a “Skywalker” will appease her. She had to meet Luke to realize that he was a good man but still just a man; a lesson she didn’t quite internalize yet. The sequel trilogy wasn’t her story because her personality hardly developed. It was Ben who went through hell and back.

Films (and film sagas) have a determined length and as a film studio you need time to explore all themes, which in Star Wars are quite complex. The worst mistake I found with Episode IX was that it broke the Campbellian monomyth in favor of a Marvel type B-movie to appease the fans of old who had hated The Last Jedi. Which is understandable from their point of view, but went at the expense of quality. The Rise of Skywalker may have quenched the fire a little, but as a film, it’s frankly forgettable, and compared to the other films from the saga, I doubt that it will age well. Had the sequel trilogy continued Rian Johnson’s approach instead of putting a band-aid on The Last Jedi, it would have been good enough to make a cultural impact the way the classics did. If the sequel trilogy was meant to follow The Hero’s Journey, no one completed it: Ben died and Rey went into exile, and no one brought any kind of elixir or salvation into the world.

All of this is not to say that I have grown to like The Rise of Skywalker and that I am not disappointed about the ending, or no longer sad about Ben Solo’s death. I hope that the next trilogy will give him a second chance: I am still convinced that his ultimate fate should have been to bring lasting Balance to the Force. If I am wrong and his existence practically cancelled the past without improving anything, the whole saga loses its sense. I think that by now he atoned more than enough for his sins.

When I learned that Rian Johnson had negotiated his own trilogy after The Last Jedi, I remember wondering what it would be about. After all, almost everything had been said about the Skywalker saga, hadn’t it?

It hadn’t. I had naively assumed that like with Episodes III and VI, the final revelations were preserved for Episode IX. By now it seems to me like The Rise of Skywalker is meant as an appetizer for the next sequel. It can’t be that the studios unlearned how to make good films in so short a time after The Force Awakens and The Last Jedi, also considering that everything else they made about Star Wars in between (Rogue One, Solo, The Mandalorian) is solid work and not by a long shot as flat as Episode IX.

The studios assuredly will keep their secrets as long as they can. The Mandalorian was met with huge expectations, yet nobody knew about Baby Yoda before the first episode was aired. Due to their depth and love for details, Star Wars films can be watched and discussed over and over, and the message regarding the necessity of Balance is still widely unknown or not accepted by the fans. If this is supposed to be not only an entertaining but also an educational tale, authors must give new fans room to get to know the saga, and old fans time to let the new ideas sink in. Lucas and his collaborators have taken decades trying to teach us that morals are not black and white. But still when The Last Jedi came out, the message was utterly hated.

Whatever Johnson’s trilogy will be about, it can’t be a part of the Skywalker saga any more: they are all dead. Even if Ben is brought back somehow, he is a Solo, so this time it would be the story of his own family. The Skywalker saga was basically Anakin’s, and by reconciling with a Palpatine and giving his life to save the woman he loved his grandson ultimately made up for his sins. The Last Jedi was a bold move; but what are “bold moves” supposed to be good for if they are not followed through? Apart from the fact that the sequels weren’t even exactly bold but drawing sums from what we already could see in original trilogy and prequels about the Jedi and the old Republic.

  Family Is the Key

Star Wars is a family tale. It is for families and it is about families. One of the most frustrating things about The Rise of Skywalker was, for me, that the “new” heroes didn’t make any kind of home or family of their own; and a Star Wars film or series never works without a father figure at its heart. I am sure Ben Solo was ultimately meant to be a father figure; the sequels couldn’t work without even giving him the chance to be one. Anakin and Luke both founded a family - one through marriage, the other befriending many different people. The third generation did not even get a chance either way.

“I believe that you are redeemed by your children.” George Lucas

In Star Wars, children always have to pay for their parent’s sins, and only they can make them atone. Which makes it all the more tragic that Ben is not a father; by this logic, only his child could have saved him, or an adopted one. On seeing the enslaved children of Canto Bight, of whom one is Force-sensitive, I was convinced that the sequels would be the children’s trilogy. (I might have accepted Ben dying had he saved and left them with Rey, who also is an abandoned child and so would have found a meaningful task.)

What the galaxy needs most are not heroes but people. Heroes exist to save desperate situations; lasting peace can only be made by normal people. With Luke becoming a hero in the original trilogy and Anakin a villain in the prequels, I was expecting Ben to find back to humanness. Since we have another trilogy to look forward to, I do still hope Ben will get another chance and this time he will find his happiness; but I also believe that he will have a long way to go before that. By the end of The Rise of Skywalker he is a hero, but in order to be happy he would need to learn how to be fully human, realigning both sides of his personality and healing the gap between them (the way Anakin couldn’t). And you don’t learn how to embrace your humanness quickly after having lost it within the scope of years and years. Ben wanted Rey because she was the only person in the galaxy with whom he could be completely honest. But being human also entails bonding with other people, not only with one’s significant other.

Ben tried to pull off the “bad guy” role and failed because it’s not in his nature. A lot of fans see him as a loser, because whether good or evil, a male protagonist is supposed to be always unfazed. The gentle, nurturing and emphatic personality that comes out in Ben when he is balanced is not that of a warmonger but of a peacekeeper: I see nothing inacceptable or emasculating in that. Unfortunately, who has Luke, Anakin or Han as blueprints for “real” men, won’t accept someone like Ben Solo. I hope that in time, he will be more appreciated, and that his life story will be a warning both for the audience and for the saga itself, i.e. that it is more to the point not to punish a criminal but to prevent him from becoming that way in the first place. Which brings us again to the topic of children and a better way to raise them, Force-sensitive or not.

Rey and Ben both are children with unhealed wounds. Their brief moment of harmony during the Force connection on Ahch-To was so powerful because both were speaking to each other’s inner child: Ben saying to Rey that she was not alone, Rey offering Ben an understanding he had not known before. Padmé also always saw in Anakin the good little boy she had first met; one of the reasons of the unbalance in their relationship was that he felt powerless to do something for her in return.

I think that the sequel trilogy of the Skywalkers wanted to tell us is that even if you save the whole galaxy, it’s not sufficient if afterwards you can’t support and protect your own offspring. When we met Han, Leia and Luke again, their personalities were pretty much as we left them; their mistake in handling Ben can’t have been something they actually did to him, the blunder must lie somewhere in their attitude. All three of them were traumatized by cruelly losing or never having known a healthy family life, so we must assume that after the war against the Empire, they tried to build a new world that would fit to their needs. But if adults build a home, they must do so thinking first and foremost not of themselves but of the ones who need it more than them. Children shape the future, not a victory of “good” over “evil”. And I find it interesting that the codebreaker DJ, who had such a pragmatic view of war, was also someone we met on Canto Bight, like the children. He was a traitor, but as everyone in the saga, even he had a point when he said that ultimately, wars are useless because they always flare up again.

“Good, bad, made-up words. You blow them up today, they blow you up tomorrow.” DJ in The Last Jedi

The last scene of The Last Jedi showed us a Force-sensitive boy sweeping an open space before looking up at the sky and dreaming about being a Jedi. I still believe that this scene’s meaning was “Clear the stage, it’s time for us - the children.”

The Jedi, respectively Force-sensitive creatures, must find new and better ways if they want to be advocates for peace and justice. No institution can claim to have a moral standard if it does not protect, nurture and encourage their most vulnerable and needful members, i.e. the children. Watching the prequels it is shocking to follow how the intelligent, brave and affectionate child Anakin could become the most hated man in the galaxy, crushed in the powerplay between the “good but narrow-minded guys” and the “bad but not always wrong” guys. Both his and his grandson’s dark fate could have been avoided, had it not been for the Jedi mentality based upon the conviction of having the right to destroy everything that does not (or does not seem) to line up with them.

The Star Wars saga told us over and over that power is not what it takes. The Jedi lost the Clone Wars; Vader was a lonely, bitter guy (not to mention Palpatine); Kylo had all the power his grandfather never had and it did him no good. Anakin, Han and Ben all were loved most by their women when they were at their weakest. And this brings me back to what I stated above: stories can be interpreted in different ways, but what about the message the author actually wanted to convey? If I am not getting it all wrong, it’s that compassion and not power is the key to everything good.

Episode VII and IX mirror one another, only VIII hints at a possible balance. Star Wars has a cyclical narrative; Anakin / Vader had his happiest moments and successes in his youth, while his grandson in his own youth hit rock bottom and committed his worst sins. If Kylo Ren’s destiny, as per Adam Driver’s words, is supposed to be the opposite of Darth Vader’s, how can The Rise of Skywalker really be the ultimate ending for him?

  P.S. What do you think, could baby Yoda and Ben meet? Then Obi-Wan and Yoda would be together again in a new way. P.P.S I would also like to see the Force, for once. I’m sure it’s not black and white at all. How about a rainbow? (Does anyone have Rian Johnson’s e-mail…? 😊) P. P.P.S. On the other hand, if the next film starts with Rey being pregnant and not knowing how, I might be sick… ☹

[wyrd-weaver]

"𝔏𝔢𝔱 𝔐𝔢 𝔖𝔥𝔞𝔯𝔢 𝔜𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔅𝔲𝔯𝔡𝔢𝔫."

Trigger Warnings: Suicidal Ideation, Mention of Self-Harm, Mention of Rape (That Resulted in Pregnancy), Mention of Binge Eating, Mention of Weight (By a Disgusting Man), Depression, Anxiety.

⤷ Remember: Every body type is beautiful, and you're legally allowed to maim those who say otherwise! The brief few sentences in this story are not accurate of any decent, sane individual.

Word Count: 1887

～～～～～～～～～～

Depression had you caged, shackled to the memories...the all-consuming sensations of horror and disgust. The very same that were forced upon you, that iced all your muscles twelve hellish months ago. Twelve! And yet, the nightmares refused to cease. Every evening, you battled demons most powerful and foul, acquiring scar after scar after scar. If you stumbled, if you lay down your weapon or lost...could you really be faulted? If this was Heaven's retribution, a cleansing of your contaminated, sinful body, then...was it not misguided? Surely a void replaced the evidence against you?

Blame should never have befallen you! This child, despite his mask of innocence, attested to humanity's ugliest side. Your heart was unravelling - you needed him, as an extension of yourself, as someone to cherish, but...you didn't want him. He wasn't the product of consent. He was loathsome...and a burden. He was so young, so dependent.

Casting him to the mercy of the streets would be more than a mere violation of morality. You already felt criminal - convicted on thoughts and false claims, serving a life sentence in the bowels of Hell. There was an escape, of course. Although...it wasn't accompanied by a light, or the gentle touch of a loved one. No...this escape was advertised as selfish, shameful...weak. And maybe so. Maybe life's greatest demand was the forgoing of happiness. But...to such an extent seemed excessive, and deliberately cruel. You shouldn't have been so dirty, so broken...an embarrassing stain on your family's name.

A single mother. A victim. A failure.

Plagued with flashbacks that favoured spontaneity above calculation, you carved miserable little lines on to your arms. Nobody knew - not your son, nor the Avengers...nor even Loki. They all harboured some form of trauma, however deep-rooted, and so...they had no need for your sob story. Who would care for someone so violated? Someone so...afraid? Your mind, weakened by fatigue and chronic worry, was simply too weak to resist those thoughts, and all hope had been drained from your heart. Why should you be tethered to life, if only for your child? Should you instead seek liberation, peace...joy? Decency discouraged it, but pain stood its ground.

With your dignity in shambles, your disowning, your binging...nothing felt right anymore! Nothing felt...clean. Loki had noticed, observant as he was. Here, sequestered within the walls of the Avengers' Compound, he was the closest to a friend...maybe even more.

No, no, no! I can't think like that! He's a man! A man! I shouldn't even be going near him anymore! Why, oh god...why is he the only one I'm not afraid of? The only one who can comfort me when I break? I can't...! I haven't even told him about...about...Well, I haven't told anyone! They all just think I slept with someone recklessly! And now...now I'm tainted, unlovable! This is...it's all my fault...I should have defended myself. I should have done something! Anything! Why...why did I freeze...? Why? Why?! Why?!!

Loki understood mental anguish and the torture of dissimilarity, as his birth-rights. Perhaps that was reason enough for your breathing to even, in his embrace. It had taken moths to allow such a privilege, and Loki's persistence, how his voice quivered as he begged to help you in any form...

You, whom he held so very dear...

You might have assumed his affections romantic, once upon a time. Yet...no longer. An ailment had struck you - one that rendered both eyes and ears ignorant to his double meanings, his implications...his love. You couldn't process them over the fear and paranoia. Didn't all relationships entail force, and...activities of a sexual nature? You never wanted to experience that again. Never! So, while sleep washed over the Compound, you crept to the kitchen, intent on expanding your waistline evermore. That your size may, to some, be cause for revulsion, had never previously occurred. It was only when the words danced on the tongue of that godforsaken man...

Eat, eat more! Who cares if you're sick? Keep eating! He said...he said that excess was unattractive. So - so maybe he won't...maybe I won't be...again...?

It had been dominance play, a show of superiority.

Loki would never steal something so sacred, unless you willed it.

He was a gentle soul, manipulated into committing an atrocity, and scorned - by the Avengers, especially. He wouldn't find any resonance in your tale (and you hoped he never would), but as a companion, a patient listener...surely there would be no judgement in his heart? He wouldn't be so quick to abandon you...right? Still, a single utterance of that day, of that most fright-inducing event...required courage far surpassing your own. Maybe...just a word? A sign? Something...?

Lonely was the path you wandered, in spite of Loki's presence. Alone, he failed to drown your demons. He held them under the waves, but they always returned.

You appreciated the effort. Plasters may cover your scars, but they could never heal your heart. Could Loki?...In time? If distorted thoughts of him were enough to ground you in the midst of panic...could he aid your recovery?

He also wondered that. Your deception wasn't half as masterful as you had hoped. Or perhaps you were simply the target of Loki's observations, and therefore came under frequent scrutiny. He had, of course, picked up on the subtle changes in your demeanour - particularly post-pregnancy. He idled at your side, throwing neither intrusive question nor accusation. This was at the behest of his conscience, although he longed desperately to ignore it. He wanted to know...what exactly happened last year, when your transformation began?

Your lips were sealed, but his very essence ached - sorrow, curiosity, love, sympathy and compassion all melding together within him. They ran amuck, refusing any whisper of sleep. His concentration had flown alongside it, rendering him unable to enjoy the book that rested in his palm. It had maintained a decent level of interest until now, but duty called. He would pry open your chamber door, glimpse your ethereal, sleeping form...and finally feel content. If you were strolling through dreamland, then his concern could dissipate. At least for a while. If not...he would discover why.

Loki hesitated outside your door, for if you were truly non-the-wiser, asleep...vulnerable, then a mere survey of yourself and the room would leave, on his tongue, a terrible aftertaste.

But, lo and behold, only your young son slept soundly, in his crib.

Loki was grappled now with a sense of alarm - where in Odin's name were you? And, pray tell...why was your child on his lonesome, cleansing himself of the prior day, in such a frigid room? He was wrought with grief upon recalling your distaste for the babe, and again when he realised there was no option to remove him, bring him to a warmer space, rock him and sing soft melodies...

Loki's primary goal was to find you, and perhaps...coerce you into confessing everything. From a true account of the day that always replayed in your mind, to your innermost feelings and thoughts...he needed to know, and to understand.

He had scoured half the building before laying eyes upon you. However...relief proved elusive. There were an endless number of questions, but none dared to grace the air. Why was your beautiful face stained with tears? Why were you eating, despite looking so sickly? What had troubled you so? And...could he kill it? He was unsure of the proper manner in which to approach you. He had always tread lightly, but complete silence and delicacy were more fortes of his mother. He swallowed down the nerves.

"(Y/n), darling...why aren't you sleeping?"

You startled, eyes bloodshot and a biscuit lodged between your lips. "U-Uh..."

He walked forward. "Is there something weighing on your mind?"

"...No?" This was mumbled, as though credence escaped you.

"My dear, you aren't a skilled liar. Talk to me, please." The heartache nearly tore him apart.

You wouldn't meet his gaze. "I...I can't."

"Please?" Both of your voices cracked, in unison.

Oh god, alright. Okay. This if fine...right? It's fine. I'm fine...Am I? What if I'm not?! I can't tell him just yet! But he looks so upset...I did this! I caused this! Oh god...just stay - stay calm! Calm down...calm down...

A tear trickled down your cheek, then another. "I-I've never...I don't want to - to relive it."

He brought you into a protective embrace. "Then you won't. I swear, by all the beings in the Nine Realms, that I will keep you safe. Please, let me share your burden."

Three sentences. Who was so weak-willed, that a mere three sentences shattered all their defences? You cursed his silver tongue. "(S-S/n)...! He - he's...I didn't...I-I don't want him! J-Just because I didn't fight back...I didn't try to run, he...t-that man, he did...things. To me. And now...now I'm so dirty! I'm disgusting...unclean, weak. B-But...sometimes - sometimes I think it's all in my head. But it isn't! I-It happened, and (S/n)! He's...he's the proof! He reminds me...o-of that..."

Loki froze. "What...?"

"But I-I couldn't - I couldn't tell anyone! They wouldn't...believe me, o-or care! People like me, they don't - this...this doesn't happen! Why...why did this happen?? A-And now...there's (S/n). And every...every minute is Hell! I can't take it anymore...I don't w-want to be here. I don't want to be...to be alive anymore..."

Loki could almost see the threads of rationality thinning. Who would...defile you, hurt you? You were so important, so genuine and...lovely. "I will find this man, and personally deliver his comeuppance. He never deserved your voice, let alone your touch."

"No!" You stiffened in his arms. "Then he'll...he'll come back..."

"If he does, I shall slay him." Yet, Loki made no attempt to leave. Instead, he slipped into a mask of composure, enough to continue speaking without seething. "I apologise...if you thought I wouldn't care. I do - more than you could ever imagine. You are the most stunning creature I have had the honour of meeting, in all my lifetime. I was resolved to spend my days at your side, never professing my love, but after hearing that...I..."

You panicked. "Loki...don't. Please-"

"I know it would be impudent to assume that you could accept me right now, but consider that...I can protect you. I will never let him, or anyone, hurt you again." Loki wiped away your crystalline sadness. "But, please...when you can't see worth or joy in this life...please come to me. I will be here to remind you of your victory - you survived such torture, and delivered a child. You are far from weak, (Y/n)."

Loki's fingers darted along your wrist. He yearned to kiss every scar, every inch of your skin.

Though, he would do nothing without permission. "Now, my dear...let's put these treats away. I would suggest that, henceforth, you eat balanced meals and partake in some fun activities. Perhaps I could read to you, one day? And venturing out for a walk - we can do that together. I...um, hope I'm not overstepping any boundaries. I'm simply thinking of ways to occupy your mind...and your time. You can do these things alone, of course..."

You nodded. "But...you'd - you'd do them with me?"

"I would gladly do anything with you, my love." Loki's words were empty of duplicity.

You were angelic - the only one safe from his lies.